


The Dragon Queen

by lokilickedme



Category: Loki - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies), Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: AU post Avengers, Angry Loki, Asgard, Beating, Blood Kink, Cruelty, Cutting, Emotional Abuse, Eventual Romance, Explicit Sexual Content, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Forced, Humiliation, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Loki Angst, Loki Does What He Wants, Loki Has Issues, Loki-centric, Loss of Powers, Loss of Virginity, Loyalty, Masturbation, Mental Abuse, Mindfuck, Non-Consensual Oral Sex (referenced), Oral Sex, Post-Avengers Asgard, Public Humiliation, Public Nudity, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Regret, Self-Harm, Sexual Violence, Strong Female Characters, Suicidal Thoughts, Violence, true love finds a way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-19 05:03:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 28
Words: 37,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3597330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lokilickedme/pseuds/lokilickedme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This starts out pre-Avengers (before the Void and Thanos) and ends up post-Avengers, during Loki's imprisonment on Asgard.  The solitude of incarceration after the exhilaration of war has begun to take its toll on the God of Mischief, and Odin decides to kill two birds with one stone.  Multi-chapter, ongoing.  The first three chapters are rated PG, but most everything past that is extremely R, so...hang in there ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

 

The war had been raging for a century. Asgard and all her allies charged through Svelnheim, trying, sometimes victoriously, sometimes in vain, to beat back the forces of their sworn enemy. No one really knew why; they simply marched, and fought, and died by great bloody heaps on the battlefield. Odin had decreed it must be so, to fulfill a vow he had made in anger so many decades ago. He sent his own sons to fight, a captain and a general, utilizing their unique skills to lead his platoons.

No one on the battlefield could remember which engagement this was - it could have been the thousandth or the millionth, not that it mattered to the warriors who lived for the excitement, the honor, the glory of swinging their blades and cutting down foes. Even the ones who died felt only pride as they bled out in the dirt, comforted by the war cries and shouts of their comrades around them.

Loki did not feel the same gutteral pride as the common soldiery. This war had summoned him too many times for him to feel anything more than irritation at being called away once again to captain the ranks. Not that there was much captaining to be done here, among the mayhem of battle; mostly he gave orders, shouted commands, drew up plans of attack and when the time came, rode into battle alongside his men. But he did not engage the enemy in the same way his warriors did. Messy hand-to-hand combat with heavy swords and brutish maces didn't suit him. His fighting style was more finesse than force, and often those he felled never even realized he was near before they were taken down by either his blades or his magic. He didn't pride himself on his body count, only on the looks of surprise that registered on their faces when they realized what had happened.

He stood at the edge of a jagged cliff overlooking a barren tundra and felt awed by the stark majesty of the place. They would win this battle and possibly the war by the end of the season, and it made him sad, not for the end of the fighting, but for the land itself. No longer would it be home to the people who had carved it from the very stone of the newborn planet so many millennia ago. It would belong to Asgard. It would be ruled by Odin. Its people would be rounded up and enslaved, if any of them survived.

Movement far off on the horizon caught his eye and he squinted to see what it was. The glint of a red cape snapping in the arid wind beneath a golden head clued him instantly that it was his brother, scaling the crags toward a cave that was rumored to be the resting place of the ruler of this desolate kingdom. The dragon queen.

For thousands of years she had been a legend. More a symbol of her people than an actual ruler, she was rumored to be a shapeshifter of the highest order, able to take the form of the most majestic creature in the cosmos at will. Loki had never seen her, no one from outside this realm had - not even pictures, as no one dared to commit her image to paper. She was feared by all. Since childhood Loki had wanted to cross paths with her, his admiration for her shapeshifting skills encouraging his own studies into the morphing arts. The closest he had ever come to the avian realm was the ability to change himself into a raven.

Hoping to see her should his brother prove successful in flushing her out, he sat on the cliff's edge and waited. His soldiers had taken this mountain hours ago so he was alone and unbothered as he watched Thor climb the opposing ridge. He hoped the oaf wouldn't slay her before he had a chance to catch a glimpse of her.

The rocky cliff facing was jagged and slow-going, and he estimated it would take Thor at least a couple more hours to reach the outcropping that led to the cave's opening. Loki stretched his legs out and leaned back against a boulder, crossing his arms over his chest for a nap. He was sore and exhausted from fighting, his throat hoarse and dry from shouting orders, and he knew his men were doing little more now than rounding up scragglers and harassing the villagers who inhabited the little burg far beneath his perch. He closed his eyes and willed his mind to clear, drifting into an alert half-sleep as the hot wind whipped around him.

 

_To be continued..._

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter Two

 

 

A deafening roar awakened him, but he was instantly blinded by sand hot as molten lava spraying into his eyes. Scrubbing at them with the backs of his hands, he scrambled to his feet and kept his back to the boulder lest he stumble blindly off the edge of the cliff. The wind had risen to such a violent force that he could barely keep to his feet. And all around him, a hot pulsing radiant blast of heat. Confused, he tried desperately to clear his eyes, but they stung and watered with burning tears. Through the foggy pain-filled haze of his panicked thoughts, the first thing he thought to do was clone himself.

Through the clear eyes of his second self, he saw himself against the stone and looked around to assess the immediate danger. He could see no one, just a heavy cloud of dust and debris battering him as the hot wind stirred it into a gale so strong it threatened to whip him off the edge of the mountain. He used his mind to control his clone and through him searched the opposing cliffs for any sign of Thor. He spotted him quickly, the bright crimson of his cape blown straight in the fierce wind, setting him in stark contrast to the pale landscape.

And then he heard it. A roar unlike anything he had ever heard before, something caught between a howling screech and a thunderbolt striking a mountainside. He wasn't sure if the thunderbolt part was his brother calling a storm to assist him, or if it was part of the sound itself, but he slapped his hands over his ears to keep it from splitting his skull open.

His clone squinted at the far cliff to see what was causing the noise. He was losing his concentration, still scrubbing desperately at his eyes to clear the burning sand, but there didn't seem to be much to see. Thor was indeed calling lightning, holding Mjollnir aloft to the sky, the mountainside lighting up as brilliant cracks of energy left the clouds and were pulled into the ancient weapon in his hand. But Loki had seen this many times - what he wanted to see was the source of the sound. It had to be huge, and it had to be near.

He finally cleared his eyes enough to see for himself and turned his clone off with a flick of his hand. He could feel everything his double felt and didn't want him accidentally stumbling off the cliff while he was preoccupied with things other than controlling him properly. A quick scan of the skies showed him nothing but the approaching storm, so he edged toward the cliff slowly and leaned forward to peer down into the valley below.

He had barely refocused his eyes when a great searing blast of wind blew up from below, knocking him onto his back, where he had a perfect view of the beast that rose with the wind.

It was her. It was the dragon. And she was directly above him, hovering on the boiling wind, her wings stretched wide as she turned toward the opposing cliff. Loki heard fire boiling in her gullet and had the presence of mind to roll himself away from her before the flaming blast erupted from her open mouth, engulfing everything in its path.

Thor deflected the blast with a great wind from his storm, retaliating with a bolt of lightning that struck the dragon in the ribs, singeing the scaled flesh. She roared, the sound leaning more toward anger than pain to Loki's ears, and whirled again to take another charge at the God of Thunder.

Laying on the ground below her hovering form, Loki was stricken with awe by the beauty of her. She was a deep blackened red color, her scales shimmering as the light from Thor's lightningbolts flashed through the sky around her. Her eyes were orange as fire; but it was her wings that sent shivers of admiration through him. Her wings were covered in crimson feathers. Strong and elegant, holding her almost motionless in the skies with seemingly little effort, the soft feathers rippling in the wind. He felt tears burn his eyes at the thought of this majestically beautiful creature being slain.

He saw Thor hurl Mjollnir, striking the dragon and driving her back into the side of the mountain Loki was on, a few hundred feet above him. Huge boulders and chunks of jagged stone came crashing down around him. It was time to leave.

Right before he transported himself back to the army's base camp, he flicked his wrist toward his brother, inflicting a noncrippling but decidedly painful injury to the hand he used to wield his hammer. There was no harm in leveling the playing field just a bit; and although he knew the dragon could more than hold her own, he honestly hoped she would be the victor in this battle.

 

 

_To be continued..._

 

 


	3. Chapter Three

 

 

Days later the army returned home to Asgard. Heroes, cheered by the crowds and praised by the King, victorious at last in the desecration of yet another realm that dared oppose the rulership of Odin. This was a victory old One-Eye was particularly proud of, as it fulfilled the prophecy he himself had uttered a century ago, that he would rule Svelnheim and imprison its fearful queen. Loki sighed deeply. He knew she had done nothing to deserve imprisonment; her father, an immortal who walked as a man just the same as he, was the true ruler of Svelnheim. The queen was more of a symbol, the people's mascot. She was powerful, yes, but the only time she posed a threat to the armies of Asgard was when they marched into her lands, slaying her people without remorse. Only then did she emerge from her lair to breathe fire upon the marauding forces. To pluck her from the sky and chain her beneath the ground was a travesty.

Loki had seen her beauty up close, so close he could almost reach up and touch her crimson wings. He would never forget the majesty of the beast, nor forgive his father for ending her rule.

 

Asgard.

The Bifrost.

The Void.

Thanos.

Midguard.

Prison.

 

Loki sat in his cell, ignoring the fight raging in the block across from him. The petty squabbles of the other guests in Odin's dungeon did not concern him; he continued reading the newest book Frigga had sent him, a commentary on the mystical properties of the elements, and blocked out the sounds of men and beasts pummeling one another into bloody heaps over ownership of various parts of the floor. The lack of privacy in his transparent cell had bothered him at first, but he soon grew accustomed to seeing and being seen by everyone who passed. Like an animal on display in a zoo, he whiled away his days in solitude, alone but surrounded by people who cared nothing for him.

Months had passed. He was well cared for at the insistence of his mother; he had many luxuries afforded him, his cell was as comfortable as one could hope a cell to be, and the food that was brought to him was certainly of a better calibre than what was served to the other prisoners. There was a definite advantage to being the Queen's favorite son, even if he had been branded a war criminal and sentenced to life behind this shimmering force field. Frigga still cared for him.

But things were missing. Most of his powers had been stripped, held bound inside him by the inscription of binding runes tattooed over his heart. He could still create minor illusions, but everything else was gone. No more transfiguration, no teleportation, no mind tricks. Just simple illusional trickery that any child could learn. He found that the most insulting of all the indignities they had inflicted on him.

He had books, which Frigga had sent to him on a regular basis. She visited him occasionally via her own clones, which disappeared the moment he attempted to touch them. He longed to feel the touch of another being and often forgot himself, wanting his mother to hold him in her arms as if he were a child again, and her untouchable duplicates fading into nothing only served to fuel his frustration. He soon grew intensely agitated by the lack of physical contact his incarceration brought with it.

He missed the touch of a woman. He had never been without female companionship any time he desired it, but now, deep in this dungeon, cut off from the world with the exception of guards and fellow criminals, he felt the deprivation keenly. Frigga sensed this after he had viciously slapped a hand through her image to dismiss it, and petitioned Odin to make allowance for their son to have a female visitor from time to time.

Odin refused, scoffing at the request; Loki was a criminal, a disgrace, a murderer and a madman. Why should he be rewarded for his sins? He would be damned if he'd provide a whore for the impertinent whelp's enjoyment. Let him suffer.

Still Frigga begged, worried sick by her son's growing ferocity and detachment. Odin grew tired of her petitions and threatened to take away everything she had given Loki, leaving him in an empty cell with nothing to fill his days but staring out at the other prisoners. He knew his wife meant well, but he could not let himself be perceived as soft, not even where his own son was concerned. No, he wouldn't allow the prince a bedservant. But an idea had begun to form, a solution to multiple issues that had perplexed him for weeks. 

He could appease his wife, provide the social interaction his son needed, and punish his foes in one fell swoop. The dragon queen was his prisoner, bound to her human form by a collar around her neck and incarcerated in a special cell far beneath his throne room, where she would remain for eternity, to be paraded out when he saw fit to impress his enemies. But despite her fate, she still defied him. She refused to kneel before him, or to even bow her head in his presence. She considered herself his superior even though he held her chained beneath his castle, stripped of her powers and locked away to be forgotten.

He would give her to his son. Let the mad prince have his way with her. Let him inflict whatever indignities his cruel, vicious nature saw fit upon her. Perhaps then she would be humbled. He would let Loki break her for him. 

He had no doubt he could do it.

 

 

 

_To be continued..._

 

 


	4. Chapter Four

 

"I have a gift for you, my son."

  
Frigga appeared beside the bed where Loki lay, staring at the ceiling with blank eyes.

"More books, mother? I'm afraid I've read all I can bear about the native beasts of the Jundland wastes." He rolled over onto his side, putting his back to her, in time to see a woman being escorted down the long hallway outside his cell.

His attention captured, he watched curiously. There were no women in this cellblock, it wouldn't be prudent considering the calibre of the criminals held here. Why was she being brought in? And why was she escorted by not two guards, but six?

The chains attached to the collar at her throat were thicker than the ones that had bound him upon his arrival. In addition to them, two more chains bound her at the waist, encircling her body with a steel clasp bound tightly at her hips. Two more chains were attached to the iron cuffs around her delicate wrists. Still two more dragged along behind her, encircling her bare ankles.

His curiosity now fully piqued, he stood and went to the force field comprising the north side of his cell to catch a closer look at the new prisoner. The guards jerked her to a stop right in front of him. Her head was held high and she looked him squarely in the eyes as the jailor clasped a field disruptor bracelet around her wrist and proceeded to unlock the cuffs and remove her chains. Not risking a moment with her unbound, he shoved her through the force field.

She stumbled and fell against Loki. He didn't catch her; instead, he stepped back and allowed her to fall at his feet.

The jailer punched a keypad and deactivated the field disruptor around her wrist, imprisoning her inside the cell.

Suddenly Loki understood. He spun around to face his mother, whose image was still standing beside his bed.

"Is this your gift, mother? A whore for my bed?" He kept one eye on the woman who had regained her footing and was now standing near the corner, unwilling to let her out of his sight for even a moment. She had been more heavily chained than any murderer he had seen in his many days in the dungeon. He couldn't imagine what she must have done for the guards to be that cautious with her. "Really, mother - your sentimentality will one day be your downfall."

Frigga smiled indulgently at her wayward boy. "I'm sure you are right, my love. But this is the best I could do for you...your father was not keen, but eventually changed his mind."

"Odin approved this?" He eyed the woman suspiciously, noting that she had not moved, but neither did she seem concerned with him. "What ulterior motive does he hope to achieve in affording me this _kindness_?"

He said the final word in a sneering snarl, his distrust of the King completely uncontained in his voice.

"Just enjoy it, Loki. I do not know how long it will be before he allows it again, nor for how long he will allow it this time."

And then she was gone.

The guard outside the cell waited until Frigga's image had faded before he entered a code into the keypad and the field walls turned opaque. Loki turned to the woman, his lips curling up into a twisted, predatory grin.

"It seems they care not what transpires inside this cell." He motioned toward the now solid-looking walls. "They cannot see me strangle you, nor can they see what I do with your corpse once I am finished."

The woman didn't blink. She didn't attempt to move away as he advanced menacingly on her, nor did she break eye contact with him. He had at the very least expected her to flinch at his words, but her stoic glare held fast and she remained silent. Loki was confused; his words were his weapons, they had always served him well, but this woman didn't seem affected by them in the least. A flash of anger flared up inside him and he decided her challenge would be met. He would force her to fear him, or respect him, whichever came first. He hoped it would be fear.

He stopped a few inches from her and bent until his face was directly in front of hers. He let his eyes rake lasciviously down her body and slowly back to her face, taking his time, letting his unspoken intentions sink in.

"You're too small," he finally sneered, backing up a step. "Are you a child? Did Odin fetch a little girl from the nursery to feed to his feral caged beast?" He reached out and snatched her wrist, yanking it up in front of his face. "These delicate little bones, I could break them so easily and with _such great relish_..."

Before he realized it she had lashed out with her other hand, striking him across the cheek. He felt her fingertips rake across his skin, but there was no stinging burn of nails cutting him; he grabbed her loose hand and turned it so he could inspect it. Her nails had been cut so far back that her fingertips were raw and red.

"The kitten has been declawed." He smirked and let her hands drop. "A shame, I would have enjoyed more of a challenge." He turned his back to her and walked away.

 

 

_To be continued..._

 


	5. Chapter Five

 

 

  
When the guards returned an hour later to retrieve her, they found Loki sitting quietly on his bed, reading, ignoring the woman in the corner as if she weren't there. 

"Take her, she is of no use to me," he uttered dismissively, never looking up from his book. "And tell the King to send a more sturdy victim next time - this one is an insult."

The woman stood still as the pillars that lined the corridor. Her eyes never left Loki as the guards entered the cell and bound her once again in her chains and shackles, leading her away. He wasn't sure, but Loki thought he caught just the faintest whisper of a derisive chuckle as she was yanked through the flickering energy field and disappeared around the corner in the midst of her guards.

He waited until she was out of sight before springing to his feet and rushing to the barrier to try to catch a glimpse of her before she was gone. He watched, noting every detail his quick eyes could pick up; her straight back, unbowed despite the heavy chains pulling against her, and the way the guards seemed to allow her to set the pace as they walked. The curious manner in which the guards stayed as far away from her as possible, letting the chains pull to full length between themselves and their prisoner. The fact that she was so small and fragile in appearance but so unflinching in her demeanor. She hadn't feared him and she certainly didn't fear the heavily armed guards that surrounded her. 

Who was she? Why had his mother sent her to him?

He was anxious to find out...but not so anxious that he would summon his mother to ask her. He suspected another chance to gather information would be forthcoming, he would just have to wait for it.

He could be a very patient man.

 

A week passed without much incident. No visitors, no messages from his mother, not much in the way of comings and goings of prisoners into or out of the cellblock. Loki was getting bored. He acted out by headbutting an unsuspecting guard during his bi-weekly trip to the showers, resulting in the suspension of his bathing privileges for a week. When that failed to bring any attention, he refused his food for two days, but that too only brought inconvenience on himself. Frustrated and annoyed, he threw a tantrum, trashing his cell and working himself into a rage while guards assembled in the hallway to watch. When they saw he wasn't going to do himself an injury they started to wander off, losing interest in the prince's misbehaviors. 

And then, just when he was beginning to think he'd been forgotten, they brought her back.

The procession of guards was different this time, save for one man who bore fresh scars from what appeared to be recent injuries to his face and neck. Loki recognized him as the one that had shoved her through the barrier last time. He stood by his bed while they marched her up to the energy wall and began removing her chains; this time they had already fastened the field disruptor around her wrist and the guard with the scars shoved her, much harder this time, sending her sprawling into the cell and onto the floor. 

Loki couldn't see her face, but something in the way she looked at the guards when she stood up made them back away, their hands going defensively to their scabbards to grip the hilts of their swords. It was amusing and he stifled a laugh at their alarmed faces. She was no more than five feet tall at best, a tiny little thing that looked no more than a child, yet they moved cautiously away from the cell with their eyes never leaving her. Even protected as they were on the other side of the energy shield, they still obviously feared her. 

The shield walls were darkened to opacity then and he could no longer see anyone in the corridor. The woman still stood with her back to him, staring at the wall that had now gone black.

After several long moments, Loki dropped his book on the bedside table. It made a resounding _thwack_ that echoed through the cell, and the woman slowly turned her head to the side. She didn't look at him, but he could sense her assessing the area, getting a feel for where he was in relation to the furniture, the walls, and her own location. He recognized her posture and demeanor and realized he wasn't dealing with a serving maid or a petty thief - she was as much a predator as he. But what exactly was she?

"I'm meant to be your solace," she finally said, after a long silence had fallen over the cell. It was the first time he'd heard her speak and her voice took him by surprise. It was soft and sweet and lilting with an accent that he couldn't place. It sounded to his ears like something left over from an ancient tongue no longer spoken, but refusing to be forgotten.

Before he could speak in response, she turned to face him. Her eyes appraised him, sweeping over him top to bottom with impatience. "I'm to submit to you, though they know I won't. I'm to be broken by you, though they doubt I will. And though in this form I stand no true chance of successfully fighting you off, they hope we will do one another enough damage to tame at least one of us."

Loki cocked his head to one side and gave her an amused grin. "I can't be tamed."

She returned his grin. "Nor can I."

 

 

 

_To be continued..._


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major warnings for this chapter - go no further if you're squicked by any of the things listed above. Not kidding here.

 

 

The two circled each other slowly, predators sizing one another up in the confines of the cell. "You have the advantage, peasant," she snarled in a low voice, her eyes burning into him with something caught between hatred and curiosity. "But though your size may serve you for the purpose of domination, you will not break me."

Loki stopped where he stood and tried to decipher her words. "I am no peasant, _whore_ \- I am a prince of Asgard." His voice betrayed his temper but it had no effect on the woman; he advanced on her but she had nowhere to go, her back just inches from the shield wall, crackling pops of energy hissing at her nearness.

"A jailed prince." A smirk tugged at her mouth. "You are all peasants to me."

He grabbed her by the upper arms and gave her a violent shake, grinning maliciously as the hem of her dress touched the shield and the smell of burning fibers filled the cell.

"I could kill you right now," he whispered.

Her leg swung up between his thighs and the breath was knocked from his lungs as her shinbone made contact with his groin. It wasn't a hard blow but it was enough to break his concentration and allow her to wrench her arms from his grip and move away from the shield. She knew from experience the damage one could do to oneself by touching it.

Loki recovered quickly and whirled on her, striking her across the face with the back of his hand. She immediately tasted blood and felt her primal instincts break free. With a snarl of rage, she flew at him, but he was so much bigger than her that her attack was rendered pointless almost instantly. Grabbing her up with both hands, Loki slammed her down on the floor and stood over her, his feet pressed into her sides preventing her from getting up, and stared down at her with an expression of pure malice.

" _I'm going to make you regret that_ ," he sneered, going down to his knees straddling her body. He grabbed the front of her thin dress and ripped it straight down, tearing it into two pieces as she struggled against him. He overpowered her easily, but she fought him hard, and by the time he had stripped her naked she had bloodied his nose and split his lip. He retaliated by slapping her again, hard, with his open palm before dragging her up off the floor and shoving her toward the bed.

"We can do this the easy way or the really _really painful_ way," he warned her as she tried to scramble away from him. Scooping her up with one long arm he slammed her down on the bed and climbed on top of her as she kicked and punched at him, landing blow after blow to his ribs and face, cursing him in a language he'd never heard before. "Okay," he growled, grabbing her wrists and holding her flailing arms above her head, " _Painful way it is_."

He pinned her to the bed with his body and gripped both her wrists in one hand to keep her still as he used his other to reach down and free himself from his breeches. The woman hissed and bit at him, her teeth catching his neck hard enough to mark him, but it only made him angrier and he shoved his knee up hard against her crotch. She cried out in pain, turning her face away, and for just a moment he realized that though she was a worthy opponent, she was still just a small female, barely more than a child; he hesitated as he watched tears fall down her cheeks and onto the bedsheets, and in that moment of hesitation, she turned her face back to him and locked her eyes to his.

"You can take this body, but you cannot take me," she whispered through clenched teeth. Her lip was bleeding and Loki's eyes fell to the deep gash as she continued speaking. "You can't touch me. I am so deep inside this form that you will never even catch a _glimpse_ of me."

Her words angered him, but he felt uneasy because he didn't understand them; he needed to silence her and crushed her mouth beneath his in a bruising kiss as he pulled himself out of his pants and moved in between her legs to claim her. Her eyes locked to his again, but this time he didn't hesitate; he shoved himself into her roughly, ignoring the scream that broke from her throat as he began pushing hard against her. His mind was clouded with rage but he could have sworn he felt something tear inside her as he entered her.

She struggled beneath him for a few moments as he drove into her, her face betraying the pain her body was experiencing, but Loki could see that it was more than just discomfort - she was truly suffering from the indignity and humiliation of his brutality and it was worse, far worse, than the physical assault. This thought pleased him and he pounded into her harder, forcing her to cry out and twist to free her arms. He let them go and she frantically grabbed his shoulders and held on. 

Though her face was wet with tears and twisted with anger and pain, Loki begrudgingly admired her beauty through the veil of rage and lust that clouded his mind. His hands roamed over her body roughly, letting her know that she was his to do with as he pleased, touching her everywhere, his nails scraping over her pale flesh, his fingers pulling and pinching and twisting till she cried out and arched against him in agony. She fought her best fight, but in the end she was just too small for her efforts to do much more than amuse him. But still she fought him.

The struggle only aroused Loki's dark passions more and he took great delight in hurting her more intensely; he concentrated on splitting her in two with his violent thrusts, biting her throat hard as she screamed and twisted beneath him.

" _Beg me to stop_ ," he taunted, "Beg me and I _might_ consider letting you live to experience this again!"

She was whispering something under her breath that he couldn't quite hear. He rammed his cock into her viciously, knocking the breath from her lungs to stop her whispering. She gasped and bit down on his shoulder, drawing blood.

" _You cannot touch me._.."

"What?"

" _You cannot touch me...you cannot...touch...me.._."

Infuriated, Loki grabbed her face in his hand and squeezed her jaw, twisting hard enough to almost pop the joint from its socket. "I'm afraid you're sadly mistaken, _whore_ ," he snarled, feeling his release building as he watched blood start pouring from her lip where his fingers were digging into the flesh. "I am most definitely touching you, both _inside_ \- " he thrust hard, straining to hold back his orgasm, " - and out." He snaked his tongue out to lick the blood from her chin and let himself go, grunting as his loins emptied violently into her torn insides.

She groaned as his body pressed down on her, convulsing with pleasure that he'd taken from her without her permission. She could feel his hot seed spurting deep into her and her despair was so complete that she simply lay beneath him, letting him finish, until finally he rolled over off her. Humiliation burned her cheeks, but Loki wasn't finished debasing her yet. With a chuckle, he looked down at his still half-erect cock and dragged one fingertip down the length of it; his finger came away streaked with blood. Her blood. He looked at her to see her reaction, then with a smirk raised his hand to his mouth and slowly licked the blood from his finger.

" _Delicious_ ," he murmured lasciviously. "Nothing tastes better than the blood of a virgin."

 

 

 

_To be continued..._


	7. Chapter 7

 

 

When the guards returned, they were amused to find her naked and her dress so torn and ruined that they had no choice but to chain her and march her down the corridor nude and bleeding for everyone to see. The one with the scars in particular enjoyed her situation and sneered openly at her, his eyes raking freely over her bruised and battered body as Loki lay on his bed, likewise naked, looking very pleased with himself.

"I see you found a use for her after all, your highness," the scarred guard said with a smirk as he roughly shackled the heavy iron collar around her neck and gave the chain a hard tug. The woman stumbled and threw a murderous glare past him at Loki. He met her stare and broke slowly into a wide, wolfish grin.

"Oh yes...she's female, they all have at least one use."

As they led her away, she threw one last look at the man on the bed and whispered, " _You didn't touch me. You'll never touch me_."

In his head, Loki begged to differ...but in his heart, he suspected that maybe she was right.

 

  
The next time she was brought to him, enough days had passed that her wounds had healed and most of the bruises he'd left on her flesh were faded to a light yellow. He'd long recovered completely from his own injuries, his power of healing being one of the few abilities that hadn't been stripped from him by the tattooed runes across his chest.

His eyes fell to the bruises on her throat when the iron collar was removed and she was pushed into his cell. _She isn't Aesir_ , he decided to himself. _She would be healed if she were god-kind_.

He strolled slowly across the cell to where she stood, reaching out to stroke one long finger down her arm. She flinched when he gripped her elbow, squeezing a particularly large bruise that she'd acquired during their last encounter.

"Still think I didn't touch you?" he mocked, grinning down at her. She ignored him, staring straight ahead. He could feel the rage building in her already.

"By all means, let's get to round two," he taunted as he walked slowly, circling her. "Since round one went _so well_ for you..." He leaned in close to her from behind and hissed in her ear. "I'm sure you're anxious to see how much better you fare this time."

With one quick motion he spun her around to face him, grabbing her face in his hands to force her to look at him. "And yes, I will touch you...I will _fuck you_ until you scream and bleed and beg for mercy and then beg for more, and while I will gladly grant you that particular wish, the mercy will be sadly - " He reached down to roughly grab her by the crotch with his hand, his fingers digging into her viciously - " _lacking_."

She bore his brutality silently this time, but the barely contained rage he sensed growing within her excited him. She stood stoically as he removed her clothing and pushed her onto the bed, closing her eyes as he undressed himself; his hands and teeth and mouth and tongue were on her then, moving over her naked body, touching and probing and biting and sucking at her everywhere. She could bear the indignity of being taken this way. _He couldn't touch her_.

Loki stopped exploring her body and stretched out on top of her on the bed, pressing her down into the mattress with his weight, watching her face as he crushed the breath out of her. His body was already responding to the nearness of her and he pried her legs apart, letting the throbbing weight of his cock fall down between her thighs to rub against her warm sweet pussy. It angered him that she wasn't wet for him; reaching down, he pushed one finger into her, grinning when she winced in discomfort. She was dry and the intrusion was painful.

"Oh does that hurt, little one? Well, I think you know how to remedy that - all it takes is a little cooperation..." He dragged his finger out of her and pushed it into her mouth, wetting it with her own saliva before slipping it back into her. It went in more easily, but not by much. "If you just give in to me, _let me touch you_ , then I promise you it will feel better. In fact, I can make it feel quite good, if you prove yourself deserving."

To emphasize his point, he pressed the pad of his thumb against her clit and gave it a firm rub. She hissed through her teeth, her eyes clenched shut, determined not to let him give her pleasure.

He shrugged. "So be it."

 

He raped her mercilessly, driving into her hard and fast and without pity. She was completely dry so the friction was agonizing for her but stimulating for him, a blessing in disguise as it made him climax quicker. But her tender flesh bruised and tore, unable to withstand his ferocity, and by the time he was done with her, she was bleeding.

The guards didn't return for her until the following morning, so she was forced to lay beside him in the bed while he slept. He was confident that he'd beaten her down enough to prevent her from attempting to murder him in his sleep, but he still took precautions; he put her on her side with her back to him, his arms around her with one elbow bent around her throat. If she moved, he would simply squeeze, snapping her neck.

The close proximity of his body to hers was oddly comforting yet threatening at the same time; she could feel his cock against her back and she hoped silently that she wouldn't feel it become aroused again during the night, but the steady beating of his heart against her shoulder eventually lulled her into a dreamless sleep.

 

They were laying together, sleeping soundly, their bodies spooned into one another when the guards arrived with her chains. She awoke when she heard the shield disruptor buzzing, but she couldn't move because Loki's arms were still around her - and she knew he wouldn't hesitate to tighten his arm around her neck if he felt her move even an inch. But he hadn't awakened yet, and the guards were leering at her.

"Loki," she whispered. "Loki, wake up - it's time for me to leave."

He stirred in his sleep, lowering his arm from her throat to her chest, his other hand sliding up her belly to cup her breast. He squeezed it gently, a low moan escaping his throat, rumbling through his chest into her back. She felt him hardening against her bottom as his fingertips brushed over her nipple and his lips pressed to the back of her neck.

"Loki..."

His eyes opened then and he saw the guards. The woman lay perfectly still in his arms, not sure what he was going to do; take her again with the guards watching, humiliating her even more? Or let her go, sparing what little scrap of dignity she had left?

He sighed against her shoulder, obviously not happy with his options. Removing his arms from around her, he broke the embrace and sat up, swinging his long legs over the opposite side of the bed and pulling his pants on. Reaching back, he dropped her crumpled dress onto the bed beside her.

 

When she was gone, he lay back on the bed and closed his eyes. The warmth of her body in the bed next to him as he slept had been a welcome thing, despite their violent interactions of the previous night. He committed the feel of her to memory, the scent of her skin, the tickle of her hair against his face, the satin touch of her flesh, the way her sweet little bottom had pressed back into his groin as he held her. And through his sleepy ears he'd heard her breath catch in her throat momentarily when he'd caressed her breast. She hadn't fought him or moved away from his touch.

Though the walls of his cell had been returned to their usual invisible state and anyone moving through the corridors could see in, he slipped his hand into the front of his breeches and stroked himself until he came.

 

 

 

_To be continued..._


	8. Chapter 8

 

 

After weeks of silence, Frigga finally paid Loki a visit. His first kneejerk reaction was to slap her image away, but he thought better of it; his mother had only ever been kind to him, the one person who hadn't forgotten him. 

"Who is she, mother?"

Frigga ignored his question and posed one of her own.

"Loki, what have you been doing?"

"What? I would have thought you'd know, mother - since you're the one who arranged to have her sent to me. Was I not meant to have 'calming carnal relations' with her?"

"Yes - but you weren't meant to abuse her the way you have."

Loki laughed bitterly. "Spying on me now, mother? Really?"

Frigga's image watched him carefully. "The maids assigned to clean up after you have shown me your bedsheets. So much blood, Loki. Why must you be so cruel?"

Again he laughed, a harsh sound devoid of joy. "Checking my sheets. What am I, twelve?" He paced, shaking his head angrily. "And you dare to call me _cruel_?! As if sending her to me in the first place wasn't _cruel_?! Who is she? Were her sins so great that she deserved _me_ as punishment?!"

"I wanted to confirm that you were using her in the manner intended. And it has been reported to me that you are calmer and less prone to causing trouble." Her eyes softened a bit. "She deserves no punishment at all. She is innocent."

"Oh I doubt that - I've seen the chains, the shackles, the collar - she bears more guards than the gravest of criminals, _more than me_ , and yet you call her innocent?"

"Loki - "

" _WHO IS SHE?!?_ "

Frigga fell silent. Loki stalked over to wave her away with his hand but she beseeched him to hear her out.

"My darling son, I implore you, do not add another murder charge to your list of offenses. Be careful. Odin wants her alive, if you were to kill her I'm afraid there would be nothing I could do to spare you the axe."

"Odin? _Odin_ wants her alive?"

"Goodbye Loki."

"Mother, no wait - "

But she was gone before he could stop her.

 

 

The guards brought the woman more frequently now. Loki wondered if his mother had anything to do with it, but quickly dismissed the thought; he didn't want to think about his mother, nor what she had said to him, and he certainly didn't want to have her in his thoughts while his pretty little plaything was with him. They'd provided her as a way to keep him placid, he knew now; even though playing by their rules rankled him, he grew less and less willing to risk having her taken away from him, and therefore behaved himself in between visits - for the most part. He still caused minor mayhem whenever the circumstance allowed, mostly because it was just in his nature. He didn't want them thinking they'd tamed him, and he absolutely didn't want them thinking he no longer needed his toy.

For he _had_ grown to need her.

He was still rough with her, though she handled it as well as could be expected and often reciprocated with backlash of her own, many times leaving him as bloody and battered as she was. He often marveled at how such a tiny being could withstand so much abuse, and the force with which she struck him had many times rendered him momentarily stunned. But even though she held her own against him, he took great delight in proving to her that he would always be the victor. She couldn't hope to beat him. The look of sheer hatred on her delicate face as he pushed her to her knees and forced her to kneel before him was both exhilarating and arousing, and Loki loved every second of it.

 

She'd been coming to him for months now. In that time he had noticed things about her, things he committed to memory, hoping one day to piece together enough about her to discover her identity. But still it eluded him. She bore resemblance to no one he knew. She was young, her appearance almost childlike in its newness. Her hands were soft and delicate, certainly not the hands of a skilled murderer or thief, and save for the marks he gave her and a single blackened scar on her ribcage, her body was flawless. There was nothing to give him any clues. It frustrated him.

He lay across his bed watching her dress. She had seemed tired this time, unwilling to resist him as much as he liked, and so he had had his way with her and then pushed her out of the bed. Ordinarily this would have earned him a kick, but she didn't even offer him a backward glance, just got up and moved to the far side of the cell to retrieve her clothing. As she pulled the crumpled dress over her head he found his eyes drawn to the scar on her ribs; he'd seen it many times and it never stopped piquing his curiosity. It looked like a burn, but he had never seen fire leave a mark like that. The pale flesh around the twisted scar was blackened, as if something of great power had struck her.

"Did Odin do that?" he asked absently, flicking his finger in the general vicinity of the middle of her body as she turned to look at him. She was pulling the dress down over her stomach and stopped for a moment to glance down at herself. She smirked.

"Jealous?"

"And why would I be jealous, sweet one?"

"That someone else left a permanent scar when you have been sadly unable to do so yourself."

A dangerous look darkened Loki's face. "Oh I could wound you so badly you'd _never_ heal, my dear," he purred, his voice full of venom. "But I dare say I've already done so," he added as an afterthought, his fingers lazily rubbing the fresh bloodstain on the sheet beside him. "Sometimes the most painful scars can't be seen."

The woman watched, her face a mask of cold nonexpression, as Loki licked her blood from his fingers.

He sat up suddenly, advancing slowly on her. "And I shall reopen that wound over, and over, and over, savoring your agony each time, treasuring your tears, your sobs of exquisite pain, and as you bleed onto my cock you will have to know that _I HAVE TOUCHED YOU_."

 

 

 

_To be continued..._

 


	9. Chapter 9

 

 

Loki lay on his bed, listening to the sounds coming from the other cells. He'd grown bored with reading and at any rate Frigga hadn't sent him any new books in a while; he'd entertained himself briefly by practicing his illusions, but with no one to fool, they soon lost their allure as well. He wished they would bring the woman to him, but it had been days and she hadn't appeared...he caught himself listening for the clanking of her chains to no avail. He wondered if something had happened.

He'd been imprisoned for almost a year now. In that time, his only visitors had been his mother and the woman. He laughed when he realized his only true company was a female whose name he didn't even know.

He found himself wondering what her name might be, and whiled away a little time thinking of something to call her - he couldn't very well continue referring to her as 'whore' - well, he could, but so far as he knew she'd never been paid for her services to him. He thought perhaps 'slave' was a more fitting job description.

Her chains had always interested him, but what truly intrigued him was the collar around her neck. It was permanently sealed, an unending circle of metal that bore runic inscriptions similar to the ones branded with ink upon his own chest. He remembered something she had said to him during one of her first visits to his cell, and it still troubled him; _I am so deep inside this form that you will never even catch a glimpse of me._

It might have been the boredom or perhaps it just was his natural inborn curiosity, but he decided he would find out what her words had meant and what the collar was for. He could be very persuasive when he wanted to be...and failing that, there was always force.

 

 

When they finally brought her back again, the guards had once again changed. A new complement of six accompanied her; even the one with the scars had been replaced, and Loki smirked at the newcomers as they nervously went through the paces of unchaining her and preparing to deposit her into his cell. 

"Gone through another set of you, has she?" he taunted, noting with sadistic glee the uneasy glances they cast at him as they removed her chains. "Oh you'd best keep your eyes steady on her, boys - I'm sure you've seen, or at least heard, what she's done to each and every one of your predecessors."

In truth he didn't know if the changing of the guard was due to her actions or not, but judging by the responses his words garnered from the new recruits, he now had no doubt it was. He'd been on the receiving end of her wrath more than a few times himself, enough to know that despite her size and apparent fragility, she was not one to be tampered with unless you _knew_ you could beat her. The palace prison guards were generally a worthless lot, useless for much more than swinging cudgels and fists, and he knew from experience that they spooked easily - he had been the cause of more than a few block transfers himself, simply by using a little bit of simple trickery.  All one really had to do was scare them once, and they would bear a healthy fear of you from then on.

Every set of guards he had seen escorting the woman bore the same demeanor of fear - she had spooked them somehow, and managed to get her bluff in. Perhaps she had gotten lucky and killed one of them; he knew she could fight, and she had apparently been responsible for the scars of the last original guard, but beyond that he could only guess. 

He toyed with the nervous men a bit more while the captain fumbled with the energy field settings. The woman had been unchained for longer than should have been allowed, and though she was standing quietly with the remaining guards circled around her, their weapons drawn, Loki could see that they were on the edge of panic waiting to have her on the other side of the shield.

"Tsk tsk tsk," he clucked at them. "You should be glad she's not in one of her moods, boys...usually by now there are at least two heads rolling down the corridor and three, sometimes four miscellaneous body parts severed. The blood has run deep in these hallways, if you look down there by the wall you can see where they missed a bit during cleanup the last time."

It delighted him to see at least three of the guards look where he had pointed. It was all he could do not to laugh out loud as the captain finally got the shield settings correct and hurriedly slapped the disruptor bracelet around the woman's wrist, motioning for the two behind her to put her into the cell. Loki noticed she was smirking as they tentatively placed their hands on her shoulders and pushed her toward the barrier.

Once she was inside and the bracelet was deactivated, the woman stood beside him and glared out at the men, not speaking. Loki stayed next to her, letting his own fearsome gaze fall upon them as well. The guards didn't linger.

Turning to the woman, he saw a smile quirk up the corners of her lips. Before he could stop himself, he started laughing.

"I expect you'll have yet another new set picking you up in the morning," he grinned through his amusement. "Tell me, how did you resist taking advantage of their ineptitude? I'd have been down the hall and gone if I'd been unchained that long."

She fixed him with a knowing look. "They're now carrying shock staffs and they're not very skilled with them yet. If one of them has it on the wrong setting, it would be a very long time before you'd see me again, if at all."

Loki reached out to brush her hair off her shoulder, not sure why he did such an intimate gesture other than he simply felt like it. "And would that make you sad? Not seeing me for a long time?"

"No...but I think it would make _you_ sad. I know how much you enjoy our time together." Her words had a biting edge, but stopped just shy of malice. "Besides, the only time I get to leave my cell is to lie on my back in yours. Why would I give up that freedom?"

 

 

 

_To be continued..._

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

 

  
The temporary camaraderie between them lowered their defenses, and Loki found himself surprised that she didn't move away when he dropped his head to kiss her. Her lips were soft and he realized that in all the months of their acquaintance, he'd really only kissed her a few times. Even then, they were brutal kisses, intended to either stop her cursing him or to express his dominance over her. But this was different.

This was soft and tender, and as the moments passed it became urgent and needy. He pressed his tongue against her lips, urging her to open and let him in, and to his delight she did so.

His arms went round her and he slid his hands down her back, letting them come to rest on her bottom. She pressed herself against him as he set about nibbling her shoulder.

"Oh _fuck_ ," he suddenly muttered, breaking the mood. "Those bumbling fools didn't darken the barrier."

The woman pulled away from him just enough to look at the energy shield; the prisoners in the cell across from them stared back, leering and making lewd gestures. 

Loki breathed something about death and dismemberment under his breath as he took her by the hand and led her to the bed. 

"Loki, they're watching!"

"Don't worry, pet."

Standing her to the side, he bent over and grabbed the lower braces of the bed frame, tipping it up on its side, creating a privacy wall. The woman picked up the blankets and pillow as they fell to the floor, and Loki took them from her hands, spreading them out at her feet. Not waiting for her to sit down, he stretched out on the makeshift pallet and began pulling his shoes and tunic off. Once he was barechested and had untied the laces of his breeches, he looked up at her and held out his hand.

"Care to join me?"

She looked at him distrustfully. "Oh come on," he chastised goodnaturedly, "You were fine with letting me kiss you a few moments ago. Willing, even." He smiled a wide smile and wiggled his fingers. "Come on."

She relented hesitantly and let him pull her down onto the blanket with him. To her surprise, he didn't immediately begin mauling her; instead, he took his time removing his breeches and then sat back against the upended bedframe, his eyes appraising her face as he sat just quietly looking at her.

Suddenly feeling shy, she purposefully spent more time than necessary removing her dress, all the while feeling his hot gaze on her. When she was undressed and her clothing was laid carefully aside, she tugged one of the bedsheets around herself to shield her from his eyes. 

"What is your name, little one?"

The question took her by surprise and she looked at him, suspicious again. The last time they'd been together, he had threatened to harm her until she bent to his will; now he was asking personal questions with a voice she hadn't heard him use before, a voice that was soft and silky and seductive. It made her feel a little weak, but she didn't intend to let him see that.

"I'm not sure how to say it in your language."

"We're not speaking yours?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm speaking yours."

He got up on his hands and knees and stretched toward her, his lips brushing against her jawline as he softly murmured, "Then tell me what you wish to be called, little one, for I very much desire something to shout while I come."

The woman shuddered, her eyes drifting shut as Loki pressed warm kisses down the side of her neck, pausing to slip his tongue under her collar while his hands moved up to gently squeeze her breasts. The gentleness only lasted for a moment, though, as the need to be closer overtook him and he pushed her onto her back on the blanket. His touch became more urgent, rougher, and she lay still expecting the brutal nature she was accustomed to to take over. She had no desire to resist or reject him, and this new sensation of acceptance disturbed her.

"What do I call you, love...you know my name, I want to know yours."

She found her breath just enough to speak.

"Eira...that's the closest to it you'd be able to get in your tongue."

He pulled his head away and looked down at her. " _Eira_." He smiled, then began sliding his lips very purposefully down her shoulder toward her chest. " _I'm - very - pleased - to - meet - you - Eira_ ," he murmured, separating each word with another kiss, working his way downward till he reached the swell of her breast. He was crouching over her, holding himself off her with his arms, but when his lips touched her nipple he lowered his body onto hers with a deep sigh. Her arms went around his back and she pressed herself up against him.

"Let me touch you, Eira," he whispered, his voice barely more than a moan against her skin. "Let me..." He sucked her nipple into his mouth and teased it with his tongue, " - _touch you_."

He felt her tense up under him and soothed her with his hands, letting one roam down between her legs as the other slipped under the small of her back. His fingers found her soft folds and worked their way in, dipping into her, delighted to find her wet for him.

"You're ready for me, Eira."

"Please, Loki - "

"Shhhh, darling...I'm not going to hurt you."

He kissed her tenderly as he moved his rigid cock to her opening and began to nudge into her. 

"Let me touch you, Eira," he breathed into her lips. "Please... _let me touch you_."

She cried out as he plunged deep into her belly, her knees coming up to grip his hips tightly as she buried her face in his neck. "You can't...you can't touch me, Loki..."

"Shhhh..."

He began thrusting against her, pushing in as far as she could take him, his lips suckling her nipples as he moved his head from one breast to the other. Her hands came up to tangle in his hair and he felt her letting go, the tension leaving her body as she relaxed under him, her sweet voice whispering his name as her hips began moving against his. 

He saw her face soften as his name formed on her lips and knew something had changed between them. Deliberately slowing his pace, he stroked her cheek with his fingertips, rocking against her, shifting so that his cock rubbed against her clit with each push. The look on her face immediately went from discomfort to surprise in the space of a moment.

He knew she had never felt pleasure when he fucked her; he had seen to that, with specific intent, making sure that she left each morning with her needs unfulfilled and her body aching from his abuse. But now it was time to show her something else. He had somehow earned enough of her trust to learn her name, now he would earn enough to buy himself another bit of information. He slipped one hand down between their bodies and brushed a fingertip lightly across the little bundle of nerves at the top of her slit.

Her breath caught in her throat and she groaned.

" _No, Loki._.."

"Hush, darling...this won't hurt, I promise you."

He began rubbing her clit, gently at first, then with more pressure as her back began to arch and her breath started coming in ragged gasps. He sucked her nipple in the same way, at first softly caressing the hard nub with his tongue, then nipping it with his teeth and sucking hard. Everything he did, he eased her into, then quickly raised the intensity. When he felt her getting too close to her release, he would take his hand away and move his mouth up to give her earlobe a sharp bite. The shock reeled her back from the edge, where he kept her teetering on the brink for as long as he could.

He could finally wait no longer for his own release and shifted further up on her body so he could thrust more deeply, pushing her knee to the side and lifting her leg up onto his shoulder. As he reached his peak and felt himself swell, ready to burst, he once again put his fingers to her clit and gave it a flick. The sudden jolt of stimulation caused her to cry out, her inner muscles beginning to clench up on him as her orgasm began. He gave her one more firm stroke and she came hard, stifling her cries by biting hard into her fist, but he heard her gasp his name and it pushed him over the edge. 

The sensation of her body clutching at his cock as he ejaculated into her was overwhelming and his vision dimmed, his mind going fuzzy, but through the haze he heard another name - hers, tumbling from his own lips.

 

 

 

_To be continued..._


	11. Chapter 11

 

 

"How go things, my son?"

Loki smiled benevolently at his mother's image. He usually showed her the respect of getting up off his bed to address her, but he remained supine, stretched out with his arms tucked up behind his head. 

"Things are well, mother. Are you here to do a sheet check?"

Frigga didn't flinch. She had long ago learned to withstand her younger son's sharp tongue and acid wit; he was, after all, a product of her own influence. "No, dearest. Although I am pleased that you seem to be restraining the darker aspects of your nature these days."

Loki gave a small, derisive laugh and went back to staring at the ceiling. "I have nothing to say to you, mother - unless you came with the intent of answering my questions."

"You know I cannot."

"And why is that? Has _Odin_ forbidden you?"

The hatred in his voice when he said his father's name chilled Frigga to her bones. "Loki, I know you feel his decision concerning your punishment was unjust, but you have to see that he is doing his best for you. You tied his hands, he had no choice but to pass this judgement. It could have been so much worse - "

"Worse than eternity staring at this ceiling?" He waved his hand dismissively at the white expanse above him. "I know you convinced him to spare my life. I am grateful for that." His voice softened, just a bit. "But I want some answers."

A long moment of silence passed. Finally Frigga sighed with resignation; she had never been able to deny Loki his heart's wishes. 

"Ask your questions."

Loki finally sat up, his face showing excitement and a little bit of surprise. Frigga was every bit as stubborn as he was; he hadn't expected her to give in so easily.

"Who is she?"

"Spoils of war."

"So cryptic, mother - "

"I never promised details."

He thought for a moment. "Spoils of _which_ war?" They had fought so many in the previous decades, he had lost track. 

Frigga paused, her eyes betraying her reticence at giving the answer.

" _Which war, mother?_ "

When at long last she replied, her eyes were cast to the floor in what appeared to be shame.

"Svelnheim."

 

Loki paced his cell, running this new bit of information over and over in his head. Frigga had switched off her image before he could ask anything else, but he was still happy with what he'd learned. She was taken from Svelnheim, which meant she'd been in Odin's prison for at least a year before he'd been sentenced himself. He needed to know what was so special about her that she merited imprisonment instead of slavery; he knew other Sveln females had been put to work in the brothels and kitchens, but this one - she had gone into a cell and been left there, until the opportunity arose for her to be whored to him. He didn't believe his mother had been responsible for this...her pity for the woman was too evident. It had to have been Odin. Odin, who believed him to be irredeemable, lost to a wickedness of soul, violent and vicious and without conscience. Giving her to him had been intended as a punishment of the worst order. The request for consort and companionship had no doubt been issued by his mother, but the choice of the victim was all Odin. That much was obvious.

His mind raced with the few details he had, piecing them together. He would find out more, it would just take some time and some doing. He smiled when he thought about the woman's last visit - she had told him her name in exchange for the trick they had played on the guards together, and he had given her her first pleasure in advance payment for the next bit of information he hoped to extract from her. They were beginning to trust each other. True, it was a tentative trust, but he felt certain he could cultivate it into more. He just needed the opportunity.  
Opportunity that was sadly lacking, as she didn't reappear for several days. But it gave him time to think, to work out his next course of action. For the first time since he'd been locked up, he had something truly worthy of his intellect to occupy his time.

He was asleep when they finally brought her again. The clanking of her chains outside his cell awoke him, along with the hoots and catcalls of his neighbors in the next cells, but he didn't get up. Once she was inside the cell and the guards had left, he held his arm out to her and motioned for her to approach.

"Come here, Eira."

She came to him and stopped next to the bed, close enough for him to reach her. He looked up at her and let a slow smile cross his face as he reached out and took her hand, tugging her closer.

"Undress for me."

She did as she was told, but the unflinching expression on her face told him she wasn't obeying him out of a sense of subservience. No, this was a sense of resignation if it was anything, her way of just getting through it without losing herself. Loki still intended to break her, but he knew he would have to go about it differently now since the dynamic between them had shifted. He had gained a bit of her trust and she was willing to let him show her tenderness, something he had withheld until the day they stood together to mindfuck the guards. It was time to start using it now.

He watched her silently as she pulled her dress off over her head and dropped it to the floor at her feet. His eyes appraised her, sweeping over her body slowly, his rising desire evident in his expression as she stood watching him. He reached out again, lightly brushing one long finger against her bare thigh.

"Lie with me."

He scooted over on the bed just far enough for her to lay down next to him; she had to press close to his body to keep from falling off the edge. He wrapped his arms around her and began kissing her, softly, nonthreateningly, letting his lips caress her face and neck as his cool hands slid over her back and shoulders. "I just woke up," he whispered against the pulsepoint in the side of her neck. "I was dreaming of you...can you tell?" He pushed his hips forward and she could feel he was aroused. He took her hand and pressed it downwards, sliding it down his hard, cool stomach till her fingertips brushed the base of his cock. It twitched in response to her touch.

"It seems you are just in time to help me with this."

Eira shifted to turn onto her back, but Loki stopped her. "No, my pet - your sweet mouth on my flesh is what I'm longing for." He urged her into sitting up as he stretched out again, but she hesitated...he had forced her to suck his cock many times, and it was always a debasing and humiliating experience that ended with her choking and gagging, usually with a throatful of his semen causing her to retch on the floor. It had never been a pleasant thing for her and she nearly started to cry, remembering the last time he'd shoved himself into her mouth. He had been so rough that her lip split and bled, and after he had come in her mouth he slapped her for gagging.

He read the apprehension and panic on her face and traced her upper lip with a fingertip, shushing her gently. "I won't hurt you, sweetheart."

She didn't look convinced. She kept her back straight, her eyes locked to his in a show of strength that never failed to impress him. He could grab her by the hair, shove her face to his crotch and force her mouth open, but still she seemed resolute to have that happen rather than go willingly. He gave her a gentle smile and kept his voice soft. "Do you doubt my ability to be tender with you, little one? You know I can be a kind lover, can I not?"

Refusing to break eye contact, she finally nodded slowly. "Good. Now take me into your sweet little mouth and let me show you how gentle I can be."

As she hesitantly lowered her head to his groin, Loki made a concentrated effort to lie perfectly still, letting her do everything of her own volition. It was against his nature to not take control and his fingers itched to tangle in her hair and guide her head to where he wanted her, but he fought the urge back and instead encouraged her with quiet words of approval as she tentatively touched him with the tip of her tongue. The warmth and softness sent shivers of desire through his body and he gripped the sides of the mattress to control himself.

Emboldened by his lack of participation, Eira opened her mouth and took him in. He was engorged and so rigid that she could barely fit him between her lips, but she relaxed her jaws and managed to get her mouth around him. It was a struggle to refrain from pushing his hips up and thrust into the warmth, but Loki closed his eyes tight and concentrated on relaxing.

He knew she expected him to hurt her. She was prepared mentally for him to grab her head and hold her still while he masturbated against her tongue, but the anticipated roughness never came; Loki lay still on the bed, his eyes shut, his breathing unsteady and heavy as he let her pleasure him instead of viciously taking the pleasure from her by force. 

She sucked at him, removing his cock from her mouth to lick him and tease the dripping head with her lips before taking it back inside. She had never imagined this particular act could be enjoyable, but as Loki began reacting to her attentions with moans and breathy sighs, Eira found herself wanting to bring him to climax. Until now the thought would have repulsed her; he always rammed himself so far into her throat when he came and made her take his ejaculation in her mouth, punishing her viciously if she threw up or tried to spit it out. But this time he just lay on the bed, not touching her, letting her do what she pleased to him.

A nagging feeling of suspicion tugged at the back of her mind, but she pushed it aside and concentrated on bringing Loki to his release. What did it matter if he had an ulterior motive for this new gentleness? She wasn't playing any endgame, all she had to worry about was her own survival. If Loki had something going, so be it. _As long as she kept him calm and happy, the end result for her could only be good...right?_

Suddenly she felt his hand on the back of her head. Panic seared through her, but he didn't yank her hair or make any attempt to hold her still. He simply stroked the back of her head gently, bringing himself up onto his elbows to look down at her.

"Eira," he said quietly, his voice soft but edged with desire, "I'm going to come - please come lie beside me."

She did as she was told, confused that he wasn't going to come into her mouth like he always did. Laying down next to him on her back, she closed her eyes as he shifted over on top of her, separating her legs with his strong hands and with a gentle but firm movement thrust himself into her. 

His hand quickly went to her clit and his fingers started stroking her, firmly and swiftly, bringing her to a level of arousal to match his own as he slowly moved against her in long, slow strokes. She felt him straining to hold himself back as he whispered heated words of encouragement into her ear, telling her to let go, to come with him...

As darkness crept in front of her eyes and a feeling of unbearably intense pleasure overtook her, she felt Loki let go and they came together, their bodies straining against each other, trying to get closer, to crawl inside each other and become one being. She cried out and heard her voice drowned out by his, shouting her name against her throat while his name spilled from her lips over and over again.

 

 

 

_To be continued..._


	12. Chapter 12

 

 

They lay together on the bed, not sure when the guards would return to take her away but not bothering to get up and dress in anticipation of it. When the guards came, they would just have to wait while they dressed. For now, Loki had no intention of losing a precious moment that could be used in piecing together this alluring puzzle.

Eira was of Svelnheim, taken during the final battle as spoils of war. Her regal bearing upon his first meeting of her had clued him that perhaps she was of royalty, but she was so young that he couldn't imagine her being more than a princess at best. But she had insisted he was a peasant, beneath her, when she knew full well he himself was a prince of the Asgardian royal family, the son of the King, which would have put them as equals. 

Odin had locked her up instead of enslaving her. She gave no evidence of having committed any crimes and he could get no one to tell him more about the charges against her, not even the guard that he regularly bribed with food that was sent to him from the palace kitchens. Frigga maintained the girl's innocence. Yet there she was, bound in chains, heavily guarded, and ludicrously feared by armed men trained for combat.

And then there was that collar...it hugged her throat like a molten metal skin, its ancient runes shimmering occasionally as if struggling to keep something contained. Something simmering just below the surface, threatening to escape. He had seen it flash briefly when the guards fastened the large iron collar over it to attach her lead chain to, but he hadn't paid much attention to it until now. Perhaps she had some magic in her; many people did, it was nothing unusual to be possessed of powers and magical trickery. His own runes, inked deeply into his flesh, flashed and sparked occasionally, reminding him that he still had what was his - it was simply locked away, useless, bound. He was glad he had been marked in his skin and not forced to wear a collar like her. 

Her youth and beauty, as well as the fact that she had been untouched until he took her, made him weigh the possibly that she could have been a royal concubine in waiting, saved for the King and being held in reserve until she was old enough to serve him in his bedchambers. But if that were the case, surely Odin could have found a place for her in the brothels, or perhaps even in his own court in a consort capacity? It was no secret there was a stable full of beautiful young girls kept at the ready for the warriors and army officials; he and Thor had visited them many times themselves, and he personally knew many of the girls by name. She would have been a lovely addition to the retinue.

No, she was something different. Something that you kept in a dungeon and only let out with a full guard complement armed with shock staffs and heavy chains. Something that you took every opportunity to humiliate, to put her beneath her station, to continually knock her feet out from under her.

_But what?_

 

He touched the scar in her side, pressing his fingers to it. She flinched. "Stop that."

"Does it hurt?"

"Yes."

He withdrew his fingers and bent his head to the twisted mark, pressing his lips to it in a tender kiss. 

"What makes a mark such as this?" he asked softly, his fingers lightly tracing a line around it. It covered a good six inches of her ribcage and looked as if it were an old injury, one that had never healed properly.

"Great power. Wielded with rage and stupidity."

Loki laughed. "Sounds like my brother."

She let her hand drift to his head, stroking his long black hair with her fingers as he rested his face against her stomach. "It is elemental - wounds from earth, air, fire, and water cannot be completely healed without another element to counteract them. It is even more so with compound elementals." She winced a bit as his finger strayed too close to the scar. "That is why my mark does not heal."

Loki knew what she was speaking of. His studies of the ancient arts had taught him much about the elements, including secondary elementals such as his brother's favorite plaything, lightning. The damage these forces could inflict was impressive. Before his own powers had been bound, he himself had borne control over minor elementals, which he had molded to his own personal use; the emerald light that flashed from his fingertips at the flick of his wrist was manifestation of this control.

He moved up to her side and pressed his face to her shoulder, letting his fingertips stray to her throat, touching the collar that lay flush against her skin as if it were part of her. He slipped one finger underneath it and watched as it molded itself around his knuckle, then fell back to her skin when he withdrew it. He had only seen this type of metal once before, in the construction of an indestructible suit of armor for a warrior named Baldur. When the dwarves who designed and built the suit left Asgard with their sizable payment, they took what metal remained with them, to keep the secrets of its composition safe. But yet here it was again, wrapped around this girl's throat. Odin's treachery seemed to snake its fingers into everything he touched.

He focused his eyes on the runic inscriptions, trying to read them. The tongue was far more ancient than he was familiar with, but he recognized a few of the symbols as binding of power. But they were slightly different than the ones on his chest - his were to bind magical power, and if he was interpreting them correctly, the first three on her collar were put there to bind something beyond magic. Something inborn. Something primal. Something the girl was created with...no, in conjunction with the fourth rune, they had to mean something that she _was_. 

_Not just something she could do._

A distinctly unsettling feeling started to grow in the back of his mind.

 

He started to make love to her again when the guards failed to show. He was determined to get some answers before she was taken away again, and decided that if force was required, force it would be - but he would try a more subtle approach first. He was tender and loving, trailing soft kisses over her body as his hands stroked and caressed her, but when he pressed his fingers to the sensitive little bud between her legs, she shied away from him and begged him to stop. Confused, he did what he usually did when he was rejected - he resumed what he was doing, while cajoling an answer out of her as to why he should stop. She squeezed her thighs together in a vain attempt to get him to leave her alone, but he was having none of it. Finally she tried to twist away from him and he grabbed her arms, pinning her.

"No Loki, please - that hurts!"

"What hurts?"

"What you're doing - " She whimpered a little as he brought his knee up to press against her crotch.

"I think you're confusing pleasure with pain, little one."

"Stop... _please_."

He kissed her, hard and deep, taking intense delight in the desperately pleading tone of her voice but wanting to silence her long enough to gain the upper hand. With his mouth covering hers, he kept rubbing his knee against her, listening to her grunts of frustration turn to moans of pleasure - and then abruptly back to discomfort. She bit his lip and while he was distracted by the pain she broke her mouth away from his.

"Loki please, _please don't make me lose control_..."

He tasted blood in his mouth and resisted the urge to slap her for biting him; normally he enjoyed a little bloodplay, but he was agitated and aroused and he wanted answers that he was going to have to cajole out of her. It obviously wasn't going to go easy. But he still opted to take the less forceful route, wanting to give her every opportunity to cooperate willingly.

"Shhhh, Eira...you know this doesn't hurt...you know the depth of the pleasures I can bring you to..."

"Please don't make me lose control to you... _I can't_..."

His ears pricked up at her telling words - don't make me lose control _to you_.

It was time to make his deal.

"If you tell me what I want to know, I'll stop."

"No, please..."

"Beg me."

"I _am_ begging you!"

" _Tell me_."

She looked up into his eyes and saw that he was deadly serious. Her voice broke as tears sprang to her eyes, acknowledging that he had won this round.

"What do you want to know?"

He grinned, pulling his chest up off her slightly so that his hands on her arms bore the weight of his upper body, very effectively pinning her and preventing any hope of escape. It was a psychological tactic that he hoped would make her more forthcoming with whatever information she was about to share with him.

"Who are you?"

She looked confused.

"You know who I am."

Something in his face flinched, his eyes narrowing and taking on a dark look that told her trouble was coming.

"I know nothing other than the fact that you are a prisoner of Odin and that you were taken from Svelnheim."

"As if that isn't enough."

He pushed his knee harder against her, grinding it into her sensitive soft parts. She yelped and grimaced in pain.

"Please, Loki," she whispered in an agonized voice. "... _I told you_."

"No you didn't."

"Yes I _did_ \- when I was first brought to you."

He gave her arms a hard shake, jolting her roughly. "You said I was a peasant and was beneath you."

"Yes... _that_ is who I am!"

" _That is no answer!_ "

"It's the answer you seek! Now keep your word and _stop_." She twisted violently under him, trying to get away from his invading knee. 

"Why do you suddenly fear pleasure?"

She kept struggling and it was making him angry. " _Why?! What has changed?!_ "

She tried to wrench her hands out of his grip but he tightened his fingers around her wrists painfully, keeping them locked in place.

"The collar!" she finally moaned. "It's _broken."_

Her voice was anguished and frightened and angry, all at once, and it took him by surprise. He lifted himself off her and let her sit up; she was sobbing, but it was obviously not from the fresh bruises his fingers had left on her wrists.

"What do you mean? What's the collar for?"

She hit him in the chest to push him away from her, but he caught her hand in his and gave her bruised wrist a warning squeeze. "Don't make me hurt you, Eira. Tell me what's happening." He brushed her hair out of her eyes and tried to cup her face in his other hand, but she turned away from him. "You were fine when we made love earlier, why are you suddenly afraid? What's happened?"

He gave her a few moments to compose herself; her body was trembling and her breath was coming in gasping sobs, like she was on the verge of hyperventilating. She clutched her left wrist against her chest and Loki momentarily felt sorry for hurting her. Reaching out slowly, showing her with his expression that he meant her no more harm, he gently took her hands and pressed her bruised wrists one at a time to his lips.

"I'm sorry, little one. I did not mean to hurt you."

Her look told him she didn't believe him. Loki hoped he hadn't taken a step backwards in his anxious search for information. He kissed her hands again, then laid them gently in his lap and reached for her, taking her into his arms and pulling her close to him. "I don't like hurting you Eira...but it's in my nature, you shouldn't provoke me." He kissed her forehead and breathed against her skin for a moment. "Now tell me what's happening."

He felt the defiance and strength drain out of her as she sighed, a shuddering sigh that seemed to signal despair and fear and the lack of will to fight against either. "When you took me, Loki - when the pleasure was at its most intense, I felt myself losing control."

He laughed softly against her hair. "That's meant to happen, darling. It's part of it."

"No," she protested, trying to pull away from him again. "You don't understand. _This_ \- " She tugged at the collar, "This is all about control. It controls what I am, what I can do. It keeps me reigned in. And when I started to lose control, when _you made me_ lose my grip on myself..." She paused, looking for the words. "When I was to the point where I handed all control of myself over to you...I felt the collar break."

Loki stared at her neck, inspecting the collar visually, seeing nothing wrong with it. He touched it, running his fingers around it from front to back, and felt nothing amiss.

"It seems fine, Eira." He watched her face for a moment, noting that she seemed genuinely afraid. "Wouldn't that be a good thing, though?"

Her eyes went wide. "No, it would _not_."

"No? Why not? Wouldn't it mean you'd have your powers back, or whatever it is that thing is binding? Don't you want back whatever it's taken from you?"

"You don't understand."

"No I don't. _Make me_ , Eira." He stroked the side of her face gently. "Make me understand."

She pulled away from his touch and snatched her dress from the floor. She didn't even bother to put it on before running to the barrier and beating on the partition column at its edge, yelling for the guards to come take her. Loki crossed the cell in seconds, grabbing her from behind and pulling her away from the energy shield; in her agitated state she was likely to touch the shield accidentally and injure herself.

"Eira, stop - listen to me. Whatever this is, you need to explain it to me. Nothing is making sense. I can help you - "

"No you can't!" she snarled at him, trying to wrench away from him. He held her fast and dragged her back to the far side of the cell.

" _Stop_ , Eira. Let me try to help you."

She finally broke free from his grip and whirled on him, giving him a hard shove that he wasn't expecting, knocking him backwards a few steps as she turned away and pulled her dress on over her head. Her voice was full of hatred and venom as she hissed under her breath, " _You...you are not worthy to even pick up my shed feathers from the barren ground_."

There was a long moment of silence as Loki stared at her in shock.

"What did you say?"

Her back was still to him as she tugged the dress down over her hips. "You heard me."

Another long moment passed as realization began to creep into Loki's mind.

"No..." 

He grabbed her dress and pulled it up to expose her side, staring hard at the scar on her ribs.

" _No_."

"Do I have to prove it?" she asked, her face a mask of disdain as she yanked the hem of her dress from his hands and covered herself again.

"You're going to have to, yes."

She sighed.

"Your brother Thor defeated me. You watched from the mountainside as he and I fought. _You yourself helped to destroy my kingdom_." She paused to let her words sink in. "Your father bound me in this form as a punishment for being his enemy."

Loki stared at her, shaking his head slowly. "No..."

"You saw your brother give me this wound. I saw you, you stood under me as I rose to attack him. I would have killed him if not for you." She made a sound of derision, obviously unhappy with the choice she'd made. "While I was distracted looking at you and wondering why you stared at me with such longing, he drew his strength from the storm...and my advantage was lost."

Loki was backing away from her, his eyes wide with shock and disbelief. " _You_ \- " He couldn't find any more words, so he simply stood staring at her. She returned the stare, standing still before him, her head held as high as it had been the first time she'd been brought to his cell.  Her hand raised to her throat and lay flat against the collar.

"This is why...you cannot touch _me_."

 

 

 

To be continued...


	13. Chapter 13

 

 

  
Loki eventually found his ability to speak, but by that time he had so much he wanted to say that none of it would come out. It all scrambled together in his brain, confusing him, struggling to arrange itself into some semblance of order. When finally he opened his mouth, his voice sounded weak and disbelieving, although he knew it was true.

" _You're the queen_."

Eira still stood across from him, staring him directly in the eyes, her face cold and distant. She didn't acknowledge his words, but he needed no confirmation.

"You're the _dragon_..." He let his eyes fall to her body, her small form, childlike in size, delicate and fragile. It was such a far cry from the way he'd seen her before, from the mountainside, that it almost didn't register as a possibility. 

"Odin did this to me."

Loki's anger rankled at the mention of his father's name. _Odin_. He had an uncanny gift for choosing his punishments very well, and Eira's punishment was perhaps the most odious of all he'd seen.

"The collar holds you in this form?"

She nodded, finally pulling her eyes away from his as she looked down at the floor, her hand going to her neck. "Yes."

Confusion clouded his mind again. "Then why were you afraid for it to lose its hold on you?"

"In my true form, I cannot be manacled. That includes a collar. If the collar stops working, my true form will manifest, but I'll still be collared. I don't know what will happen...but it won't be good."

Loki was beginning to understand. He took a step toward her, his voice soft as he spoke.

"You were afraid you would kill me."

Her eyes left the floor and came to his again. He could see the answer in them.

"Yes. With the collar on, in my true form, I wouldn't have the power of rational thought." Her voice turned bitter. "Collars are for mindless beasts." There was a long moment of silence as her eyes began to sparkle with tears and her voice dropped to a whisper. "That's what I would be."

Loki felt his hands shaking with rage at what had been done to the glorious creature he'd witnessed gliding on the wind in Svelnheim. He hated Thor for defeating her, he hated himself for captaining the armies that took her homeland from her, he hated his mother for allowing her dignity and pride to be beaten out of her, but mostly he hated Odin for snatching her out of the sky and locking her away beneath the ground. He should have let her die, but instead he snapped a collar around her throat and made her his possession for eternity. 

"I'm sorry, Eira..."

It was all he could say. It was all he trusted himself to say. He'd played his part in her torment, and he held no hope of forgiveness for the things he'd done to her. He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her, but he knew he wasn't worthy of her touch, so he did the only other thing he could think of.

He bent his knee to the floor, and lowering his head, he kneeled before her.

 

 

 

_To be continued..._


	14. Chapter 14

 

 

  
"Loki, stop." With his head down, he couldn't see her face, but the next thing he heard surprised him. She was laughing - no, not laughing, _giggling_ , the sound girlish and sweet. And then he felt her hands on his head, stroking his hair, urging him to lift his face. "Look at me, please Loki."

He raised his head and met her gaze. She smiled gently. "Don't do that, my love."

His eyebrow shot up in shock and confusion. It was the first time she'd ever used a term of endearment with him; her little hands were gentle as she stroked his forehead, smoothing his hair back as he peered up at her, unsure what to say.

"But - "

She was shaking her head. "We're equals here, Loki. In this cell, we're the same." The gentle look left her face as she glanced toward the energy barrier. "We're both prisoners of Odin."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him toward her, letting him press his face against her stomach as she stroked the back of his head. Her touch was soothing and Loki found himself wanting to stay like this, pressed against her warm body, forgetting about everything outside the cell and just existing with her.

 

Eventually they moved to the bed and Loki respectfully asked for her permission before he touched her. When she gave it, he took her gently, lovingly, with more care than he'd ever shown a woman. She responded to him with passion, without hesitation, giving herself to him more freely than before. As they reached their peak and Loki felt her body clutching up around him, he stilled himself and took her face in his hands.

"Are you okay with this?"

She nodded, slowing her breathing carefully. "I'm in control. It's okay...just go slow."

"You aren't - going to turn into a raging firebreathing dragon and bake me to a cinder, are you?" He raised an eyebrow, only slightly joking. "If so, let me know in advance because I _really_ need to come first."

She flexed her inner muscles, tightening up on him and causing a low groan to rumble in his throat. "Stop talking, Loki."

He obeyed with a smile, resuming his slow thrusting as she lifted her legs around his back and held to him tightly. He felt her approaching the brink again and whispered softly in her ear, "Bite my shoulder if you need to, darling. You won't hurt me. It'll help you stay in control."

She groaned and nodded, pressing her face to his chest, and he could tell she was struggling to keep her wits about her. He restrained himself from pushing too hard, moving too fast inside her, carefully keeping them both contained within the limits of safety, and when she sank her teeth into the flesh of his shoulder, he let it push him over the edge, taking her with him.

 

When the guards came to take her away, Loki held her longer than usual. He found it difficult to let go and hand her over to them, and as he watched from inside the barrier while they fastened the heavy chain to the big, unbreakable iron manacle they'd snapped around her neck, his heart ached for her. For the first time he noted how roughly they handled her, yanking at her, pulling hard on the chains to test their fastness, and yet she bore it all without complaint. Or maybe he had noticed it before, but didn't care...now it seemed so wrong, and it angered him. He knew he could make things worse for her if he said anything to the guards about it, but as they started her down the corridor with a push that almost made her stumble, he couldn't resist leaning against the barrier column and saying in his most ominous tone,

"I'd be more careful if I were you...she's developed a taste for blood."

The main guard turned to look at him with a distinctly startled look on his face, his eyes betraying fear as Loki tugged his tunic down over his shoulder, exposing angry red bite marks in his flesh. He gave the guard a malicious sneer as he turned and walked away.

 

Days passed and Loki was left alone, pacing his cell in agitation, waiting for Eira to be brought back to him. They did this often; he felt it was Odin's way of keeping him grateful for the gift, but he knew it was also yet another way to punish him. Give him a toy, then take it away, letting him have it long enough to grow attached to it and then only letting him play with it when it suited him. The old tyrant was no doubt enjoying this.

Loki seethed with growing rage as he paced. He despised the role he'd played in this despicable game, but he knew himself well enough to realize he'd been a more than willing participant. But things were different now - now he wanted nothing more than to exact revenge for Eira, even more so than for himself.

Odin had taken her true form, robbed her of her majestic beauty, fearsome strength, and awe inspiring power, and locked her away inside a frail, breakable body that could be damaged easily. It was done as an insult. He gave her delicate fragility so she could be broken. He gave her womanly beauty so that men would desire her, and thus hurt and dominate her for their own twisted purposes. But he could bring himself to do none of those things to her himself, because he knew her only crime was to have ruled a land he wanted for his own. And so he gave her to Loki, so that he would do the things Odin couldn't. So that he would hurt her, and dominate her, and humiliate her. So that he would bend her and break her and make her bleed. So that he would show her no mercy, no kindness, with no remorse, while Odin sat on his throne, his hands clean. While Loki did his dirty work.

Odin had known Loki wouldn't respect any gift that came from him.

Now all he could do was hope the gift wasn't taken away.

 

His mother's request on his behalf had been for female companionship to calm him and stop his tantrums and misbehaviors, much the same as putting a stallion to mare so that it'll stop breaking the fence and escaping the corral. He knew if he started behaving, his mother's positive reports to the King could result in an end to the visits. So he continued with his occasional rages, laying waste to his cell from time to time, nothing so bad as to get his privileges suspended but just enough to keep Frigga believing he still needed the company.

And they kept bringing her.

It was random and there seemed to be no pattern to it, none that he could figure out; some weeks they brought her every day, other times an entire week or two would pass before he would see her again. Sometimes they left her with him for a few hours, sometimes overnight, and once or twice she was with him for two days at a time - Loki suspected this was the result of someone forgetting, but he wasn't about to lodge any complaints. Every time he heard the clanking of her chains coming down the corridor outside his cell, his heart came up in his throat. He did his best to hide his joy, keeping his demeanor threatening and predatory so that no one would suspect he had grown to care for his victim.

But as soon as the walls darkened and no one could see them, Loki would grab her up in his arms and kiss her tenderly, sometimes slowly and sometimes with great urgency, but now always with care. He grew accustomed to sore, touchy bite marks on his shoulders and arms, and sometimes on his neck, every time she left. He bore them gladly because he knew it was vital for him to do so - and the perverse part of his nature took delight in the pain, as well.

 

One evening as they lay together, their breathing slowing and their bodies cooling, Loki stroked the collar around Eira's neck and made his decision.

"I will make him pay for this travesty."

Eira didn't say anything for a moment, laying on his chest, lazily running a fingertip across the runes above his heart. She kissed them and felt them crackle with repressed energy; the markings on her collar sparked in response.

"You can do nothing, my love. You are a prisoner, just like me. We are powerless in our cells."

"Oh but my darling, I have all the time in the world to plot and plan...and those are my strengths. Odin has made a _very_ big mistake in locking me up, thinking he has me under his thumb. He has given me what I need the most, and that is _time to think_."

 

 

 

_To be continued..._

 


	15. Chapter 15

 

 

  
"Since I was a child I've been obsessed with your kind. I want to know things. Tell me things I don't know."

Eira smiled at Loki, her heart warmed by his excited curiosity. It seemed almost childlike, a trait she'd never associated with him. 

"What do you want to know?"

"What is it like? Such power, the ability to fly with such strength."

"You can fly, Loki. You said you can transform yourself into a raven, can you not?"

He nodded sadly, his hand going to his chest where the binding runes seeped into his skin. "I _could_. But a raven is nothing by comparison. I saw you fly, your wings were - " He stopped, looking for the right words to describe what he'd seen. " _Angelic_." He had a faraway look in his eyes, and when he noticed her looking at him he seemed embarrassed. "I learned to shapeshift because of you."

She was genuinely surprised. "Really? Because of me?"

Loki smiled, that childish grin coming back again. "We were told stories of you as children. While the others were frightened of you, I wanted to _be like_ you. I wanted to fly above the clouds, not below them."

Eira pulled his hand to her lips, kissing his knuckles. "You just reminded me of how ancient I am."

"Ancient and unending," Loki said, leaning forward to kiss her on the lips.

 

They lay staring at the ceiling, holding hands, listening to the faintly muffled sounds of a riot somewhere down the corridor. 

"I miss the sky," Eira said sadly, a wistful expression on her face. Loki turned his head to look at her and felt her grief; it radiated from her, engulfing him in its melancholy mood. To be a creature of the skies, and to find oneself suddenly deep below the ground, to never see clouds and stars again...it was almost too much for him to think about. He could only imagine her despair.

"One day I will show it to you."

She laughed softly.

"You cannot do that." 

Loki tugged her arm across his chest and laced her fingers through his. "You forget, little one - you are mine to do with as I please. If I wish to show you the sky, I will."

 

That night as they made love, Loki pressed his lips to Eira's ear and whispered, "I will touch you one day."

She shifted beneath him, sad in the knowledge that such a thing was not possible.

"Before or after you show me the sky?" she teased, laughing softly.  "You may touch me now, Loki...as I am...but you can never touch _me_..."

He nibbled along her jawline, his breath a warm caress against her skin.

"I will...I promise you."

She didn't argue with him; they would be separated soon when the guards came for her, so their time was too precious to waste on debates over the obvious. But his words unsettled her and she felt sad.

He noticed the change in her mood and shifted down beside her to watch her face. When she refused to meet his gaze, he lifted his hand and held it above their heads, spreading his fingers wide and wriggling them.

"Would you like to see a trick?"

Her eyes brightened and she smiled excitedly. "You can still do tricks?"

"Well, this isn't truly a _trick_...it's just something I can do. Watch."

As he wiggled his long fingers, the flesh of his fingertips began to turn a deep cerulean blue. The color slowly spread to encase his entire hand, creeping its way over his wrist and up his arm till eventually his entire body had changed color. Eira watched in fascination, delight lighting up her face.

"It's _beautiful!_ " she gasped, her eyes following the advancing blue till it reached his face. When his eyes shifted from green to red, she sucked in her breath in surprise. "How can you do this?"

Loki laughed. "I expected you to ask what I am. Do my eyes not frighten you?"

Eira shook her head as her hands went to his face, touching the ridged lines along his brow and cheekbones. "No, I know what you are. You are Loki. Nothing else." 

"That is perhaps the truest description of me that I have ever heard." He thought for a moment, then added, "And definitely the politest."

He rolled over with his arms around her, putting her onto her back and settling himself between her legs. She noticed immediately that his body temperature had dropped, and the cool sensation of his skin against hers made her shiver. When he pushed his cock into her, she gasped in surprise at the shocking contrast between her heated insides and the chilly bite of his icy flesh - but it wasn't unpleasant, and soon she found it arousing in a new, interesting way. Loki pleasured her till she was moaning his name, giving her everything she wanted, then he pressed his cool lips against her ear and told her what _he_ wanted.

" _I need a dagger_."

Startled, her eyes flew open.

"And how exactly do you plan on getting one?"

He kissed her ear, trailing his lips slowly down her jaw till he was at the pulsepoint in her neck, sucking lightly at her skin as her eyes fluttered closed again.

"I was rather hoping you'd take care of that for me."

 

Three days later Eira was returning to Loki's cell as he watched from inside the barrier; she had told him to be where he could see her the next time she was brought, so he stationed himself beside the partition column and waited, arms crossed over his chest, suspecting there was going to be a show but not knowing what to expect.

The guards led her to the front of his cell as always, jerking her to a stop, but as the rear guard was yanking her chain to halt her she gave Loki a sly smile, cutting her eyes to the side to look at him without turning her head.

He watched as she stumbled and fell heavily against the guard ahead of her, grabbing onto his sides to steady herself; the guard was startled and spun around, knocking her to the ground, but as the other two behind her yanked her to her feet, Loki saw her slip the first guard's dagger under her skirt. He smiled to himself; he hadn't even seen her lift it from his scabbard and he doubted the man would miss it until he went off duty. He wondered where she had put it as the six flustered men reformed ranks and closed around her, securing the situation before resuming their duties. Unshackling her took longer than usual, no doubt because they were unnerved by her sudden movements and the momentary confusion, but once they finally shoved her into the cell and darkened the walls, Loki turned to Eira and grinned his widest, most devilish grin.

"That was beautiful, my sweet." He sidled up to her and slid his hand across her belly and then slipped it lower, his knuckles finally bumping against the iron handle of the dagger somewhere in the vicinity of her lady parts. "I was going to ask where you stashed this, but it appears I've found it."

Eira beamed up at him. "Anything for you, my love." She moved her feet apart and the heavy dagger clanked to the floor between them. "Good for you that I have strong thighs."

Loki smirked suggestively as he bent to retrieve the knife. "Good for me, indeed," he agreed, sliding one hand up her leg under her skirt. He pushed the blade across the floor so that it slid under the bed, then tucked his head under her skirt to join his hands. "Very _very_ good for me."

 

 

 

_To be continued..._


	16. Chapter 16

 

 

  
Loki waited until the barrier walls were darkened before reaching out to take Eira into his arms, his face breaking into a wide grin that seemed distinctly self-pleased as he bent to kiss her. She melted into his embrace and sighed against his lips as his tongue begged for entrance into her mouth; she granted it, opening to him so he could explore her. After a few long moments of his hands roaming her body while his lips caressed hers, he broke the kiss and took her hands, leading her to the bed.

"You're in a hurry tonight," she remarked, letting herself be tugged along behind him. He didn't respond, but climbed onto the bed and patted the mattress beside him as he stretched out, tucking his arms behind his head and gazing up at the ceiling. She joined him on the cool sheets and snuggled up under his arm.

After a few minutes she opened her eyes and looked at him. After being in such a rush to get her to the bed, he hadn't made any move to seduce her, or even touch her. She lay her hand on his chest and he reached up quickly to move it away, raising it to his lips to plant a soft kiss onto her palm, his eyes still gazing up toward the ceiling. Curious, she turned her head to see what he was looking at.

"What's so interesting up th - "

She stopped mid-word, unable to finish her sentence.

The ceiling had been transformed. No longer was it a dull expanse of harsh white tiling.

It was blue, dotted with fluffy white clouds.

Unable to speak, Eira simply lay staring at it as Loki turned his head toward her to see her expression. When a single tear slipped from her eye and trailed slowly down the side of her cheek to drop soundlessly onto the sheets, he smiled.

"Loki, it's..." She noticed then that the clouds were moving, drifting lazily across the ceiling, looking so real she felt like she could reach up and feel their puffy softness. "It's _beautiful_."

She tore her eyes away long enough to meet his gaze and found him smiling lovingly at her, his eyes kind and his expression caring. She covered her mouth with her hands to keep herself from crying. "You did this for me? How?"

He shook his head, his face silently telling her that it didn't matter.

"I promised you I would show you the sky. I keep my promises."

"I thought you were the god of lies."

"I lied about that."

 

As they lay together, side by side, kissing and whispering to each other under the blue sky above them, Eira moved her hand from Loki's neck to stroke his chest and felt him wince. He pulled away from her just slightly, his hand pressing over hers to slide it further down to his ribs. It was the second time he'd done that since her arrival and she suddenly realized something was wrong; almost as soon as the thought entered her head, she knew just as quickly what it was.

"Oh Loki, what have you done..."

Before he could stop her, she tugged open the front of his tunic and saw the bandage taped to his chest, over his heart. He'd bled through it, and the dark red stain of his blood stood in stark contrast to the white gauze and his pale skin.

Her hand went to her mouth in shock.

The dagger. Now she knew why he'd wanted it.

" _You carved out your runes_ ," she whispered in shock, her voice shaking. "You cut yourself so that you could give me the sky again?" Unable to control her emotions, she burst into sobbing tears as he wrapped his arms gently around her and pulled her close against him.

"Shhhh, little one," he soothed, stroking her hair as he rocked her gently. "It wasn't so bad as that."

She lifted her tear soaked face, her expression one of agony as she moaned out, "Why Loki? Why would you do such a thing?"

He smiled, his fingertips caressing her temple. "Because I love you, Eira."

 

He finally showed her his wound after much pleading, just to satisfy her need to see what he'd done to himself. He was right, it wasn't a horrible cut, just a small square of flesh where the second rune had been. He'd interpreted it as the one that bound his ability to cast illusions, and had used the sharp dagger she'd stolen for him to dig the ink from his skin. It was deep, but had stopped bleeding. Eira cleaned and redressed the wound, kissing the bandage tenderly once it was back in place.

 

The sky kept drifting lazily above them, the clouds taking on whatever shapes Loki willed them to, making her laugh with unflattering caricatures of Odin and Thor being chased by wolves across the wide expanse of the ceiling. He kissed her, and when she opened her eyes again he'd gathered all the clouds together in the middle of the blue sky, creating a soothing rainstorm to calm her.

As they moved back to the bed to enjoy one another's company on a more intimate level, the sky darkened and little pinpoints of starlight began to glow. Eira saw them over Loki's shoulder and had to press her mouth to his neck to keep herself from crying out with joy and excitement. He'd given her the sky back; the clouds and rain as well, and now the stars. She hugged tightly to him and whispered against his ear, "Thank you, Loki." As starlight filled her eyes, she sighed happily and added "I love you too, you crazy wizard."

 

 

 

_To be continued..._


	17. Chapter 17

 

 

And then she was gone, just like that. They took her the next morning, same as always, but she wasn't brought back again.  Loki paced his cell like a caged animal for days, nervous and edgy, wondering what had happened, if she was alright, demanding answers from everyone that passed but being ignored as if he didn't exist, as if his shouts and curses weren't echoing down the corridors day and night.

At first he raged, violent and unreasonable, till the guards stopped even trying to contain him and just let him scream and yell and destroy his cell, over and over, till he wore himself out. When the rages no longer satisfied his anger he became despondent, sitting in the corner without eating or drinking, staring vacantly at the blue sky above his bed. He was still maintaining the illusion that he'd created for her, but as time went by the blue faded and the clouds dissipated until the illusion was all but gone.

Days went by, and then weeks, till finally it had been months.

He gave up all hope of ever seeing her again.

 

He lay on the floor beside his bed after hurling everything in his cell at the energy barrier for the dozenth time; the air was thick with acrid smoke from the burning furniture and there were small fires burning themselves out here and there, but not enough for the guards to bother with - not that any of them would have volunteered to be the one to enter his cell. He'd become dangerous again, the way he'd been at the start, only worse; now he didn't seem to care if they killed him, in fact he seemed determined to provoke them into doing just that. Odin had ordered that he be left to his own devices, and intervention to only take place if he became a real, _viable_ threat to himself or anyone else, beyond the simple temper tantrums that he was famous for. He didn't want Loki put out of his misery. No, he wanted him to keep right on suffering, for as long as he could bear it.

The bed was the only thing in the cell Loki hadn't destroyed. It had been where he and Eira spent their time together and he left it untouched by his anger, though he hardly ever slept in it anymore. He would nap occasionally sitting propped up against the wall in the corner of the cell, where he could keep an eye on everything going on in the corridor. Sometimes he tugged the sheets off the bed and dragged them to the corner with him, holding them to his face as he dozed; he was always brought the same sheets back every time the servants took the washing, and he could still find the faded stain of Eira's blood set deep in the fabric. He would touch it reverently, pressing it to his lips as exhaustion finally overtook him.

 

_Who do the gods pray to, Mother?_

_We have no one, my son. We must make our own way._

 

Frigga's words haunted him. In his childhood innocence he had posed this question more than once, never receiving an answer that satisfied him, so he had asked it again and again, believing that eventually some secret would be revealed to him. But now he understood. There were no secrets.

_We must make our own way._

So as he lay on the floor beside his bed, vainly hoping for death to find him on its own, he turned his head and saw the dagger. It was still where he'd left it, tucked under the bed, held against the iron frame with a strip of fabric torn from the hem of Eira's dress.   _We make our own way._

He reached under the bed and touched it, stroking his fingertips across the polished hilt. He could end it right now, lay his throat open and bleed out on the cold stone floor before anyone could get into the cell to try to save him. He wanted to. But as he curled his fingers around the razor sharp blade and felt the exquisite pain of it cutting into his flesh, he heard someone shouting his name.

His blood was dripping freely when he pulled his hand out from under the bed and looked over his shoulder, toward the front of the cell. The captain of the guards was standing with his sword drawn, shutting off the energy barrier.

"You'll come with me, Your Highness."

Loki laughed, a deeply bitter sound that sent a chill up the captain's spine. He thought about forcing them to drag him out - he wasn't in the mood to go anywhere willingly and a good fight would serve his current disposition nicely. He eyed the captain boldly while he licked his bloody fingertips, letting much of the blood drip down his chin and onto his shirt, adding to the frightening image he knew he projected.

"And where will I be following to?"

The barrier wall flickered, deactivated and vanished.

"If you please, Your Highness."

"I go nowhere until I know who summons me."

The captain gave him an irritated look, but as Loki slowly sat up and he saw the blood splotching the front of his shirt as he sucked his fingers, his look became decidedly less annoyed and more unnerved.

"The Queen requests an audience."

 

Loki stood still outside his cell to let the guards manacle and chain him. He knew they were afraid of him again now that he was once again resorting to bad behavior, and he made the most of fraying their nerves further by lowering his head and staring at them out of the tops of his eyes, occasionally raising his manacled hands to smear blood from his bleeding fingers across the front of his tunic. The effort wasn't wasted on them; they kept a respectful distance and their hands on their weapons.

He was taken to the baths first and left with two guards to watch him as he washed up and made himself presentable. He really had no desire to do so, but an audience with the Queen merited, at the very least, a clean shirt. He stripped his clothes off and dropped them, kicking the pile over to the guard standing closest to him. He had declined to bathe or change for weeks and his tunic and pants were filthy. He hated to admit that a hot bath wouldn't be unwelcome after all this time.

He caught his reflection in the highly polished brass wall before stepping into the bath and was momentarily shocked at what he saw there. The man looking back was gaunt and pale, with dark circles under his eyes and very little color to his complexion. His hair had grown long and unruly. He looked haunted.

 _With good cause_ , he thought bitterly. _Haunted by the memory of the one thing he couldn't bear to lose_.  He smirked at his reflection, despising himself. He'd always been considered handsome, blessed with an angular face that balanced a thin line between delicate and masculine, eyes that sparked with life and mischief, and glossy black hair that shone in stark contrast to his light skin. He'd been told all his life that he was beautiful, though such platitudes had never meant anything to him. But to see himself now, like this, was disheartening. All the spark, the shine, the beauty was gone from him. He didn't recognize himself.

_Good. Let Mother see what's become of her precious boy. She's as much to blame for this as Odin._

He soaked until he felt clean again. The hot water cleared his mind and he tried to work out what he wanted to say to his mother, but he could come up with nothing and suddenly realized...he didn't actually have anything he wanted to say to her.

 

 

_To be continued..._

 

 

 


	18. Chapter 18

 

 

Frigga tried to hide her shock at her son's appearance, but the gaunt, hunched man that was tugged into the kitchen by the chains around his neck and wrists looked nothing like the Loki she had raised. This man was angry and bitter and full of pain and hatred, and he didn't try to hide any of it from her as the guards fastened his chains to the pot hooks next to the big open pit oven. 

"Really Mother? The kitchens? Have you been demoted in my absence, from Queen to scullery maid?" He gestured toward the pans hanging from the ceiling and the half plucked chickens still on the table between them. "Although, considering your other half, I'd say this was a move up." He sneered at her as she remained silent. "Oh, how _is_ Father, anyway?"

"Enough, Loki. You know I'm not allowed to see you. I could be executed for this."

"Then _why risk it?!_ "

"I needed to see you for myself. I've been informed that you haven't been...yourself...for quite some time." Her face screwed up momentarily as if she were about to cry, and Loki's heart dropped for just an instant.

"You know why, Mother."

She nodded. "Loki, I - "

"Where is she."

Frigga didn't answer, wouldn't raise her eyes to meet his.

_"WHERE IS SHE?!"_

The Queen visibly flinched, as if she was expecting to be struck. But Loki never took a step toward her; his chains wouldn't have let him get close enough to touch her, anyway.

She motioned toward a servant that was waiting in an alcove, nodding silently to her as the girl curtsied and turned to rush out of the kitchen. Loki couldn't be bothered with asking what the subterfuge was about...for the first time in his life he wished for his brother's strength so that he could pull his chains from the hooks in the wall and strangle Frigga with his bare hands. When his guards stepped up from the shadows behind him to remove him back to his cell, he considered taking a beating just for the pleasure of breaking away long enough to make a believer out of her. Instead, he opted to use the one weapon that had never failed him...his words.

 _"You will suffer as greatly as I have, Mother,"_   he hissed with pure venom. It was all he needed to say. Frigga's face collapsed into bitter tears, for now she had confirmation. Loki was suffering to the point of desiring death. And there was little she could do to ease it.

"I already am," she whispered as he was led away.

 

The cell had been put back together in his absence, the broken and burned furniture replaced, the bed remade and new books stacked on the little table. There was food and a brass pitcher of water next to the bed and he'd been provided with an extra blanket and a new set of clothes. 

_A waste of time, trying to appease me this way Mother. But I'll have fun destroying it all tomorrow when I'm bored again._

The guards unchained him, put up the barrier wall, and left him standing in the middle of the cell without speaking to him. His first impulse was to get on his knees and check to see if the dagger was still under the bed, but as he was turning to check if the tenants in the cell across the hallway were watching him, he heard the clank of chains in the corridor.

His heart clutched in his chest and he froze where he stood. Chains were chains, it could be anyone being brought in; new prisoners were escorted down these halls every day. But there was something about the other sounds surrounding the clanking of the chains...the shuffle of many boots. He counted footfalls. _Six pairs_. Plus one in bare feet. They were all moving more slowly than usual.

He didn't realize he'd had his eyes clenched shut until he opened them. 

And there she was.

Eira.

 

The captain of the guards ordered him to move back from the wall as they unchained her. He could hardly bring himself to look at her, afraid that if he did she would vanish into a fevered dream, but he stepped back as instructed and watched as her manacles and chains were removed.

 _Something's not right_ , he thought to himself.

They didn't put the disruptor bracelet on her this time, just lowered the barrier and let her step inside, then raised it again behind her. The barrier was dimmed and she stood there, a tired smile growing on her lips as she and Loki stood staring at one another, neither able to move to close the distance between them.

 

Loki finally strode quickly to her, taking her into his arms, crushing her against him as he buried his face in her hair to fight back his sobs of relief. Her arms went around his back and he felt her slump against him. 

_"I love you Eira...I love you..."_

She whispered it back to him, her voice barely audible with her face hidden against his chest, and he felt her trembling in his arms. He held her away from him so he could see her.

She was very pale and weak, unsteady on her feet, and Loki slipped an arm around her to help her to the bed.

"Eira, what is it? Are you ill?"

She tried to wave his concern away. As he lifted her onto the bed, he noticed she felt slightly heavier, her hips and stomach fuller to his touch. He'd barely had time to even look at her yet, but now that he did he realized he wasn't the only one that had been changed by their time apart. He laid a hand against her belly and felt that it was soft and slightly swollen. She grimaced in pain from the weight of his hand and he removed it.

"Eira - "

"I'm alright, Loki. I'm just really tired."

"You're not well."

"I'm okay."

He shook his head. "No you're _not_." He cast his eyes over her, noticing she seemed different, her lithe body now seemingly lusher, more womanly, her clothing tighter fitting. To confirm his suspicions, he slipped his hand under her skirt and touched her between her legs; she yelped and squeezed her legs shut, tears springing to her eyes.

"You're bleeding."

"I'm alright, Loki, I promise."

His voice took on a gently scolding edge as he lifted her head and slipped a pillow under it. "I don't believe you are." He put his hand on her breast and pressed gently; he felt wetness against his palm and knew instantly what was wrong.

"Eira, you've given birth. Very recently, by the looks of it." He peered into her face, his expression worried. "How long has it been?"

Her eyes were shut tight and she was breathing shallow, as if it hurt to fill her lungs. When she finally answered, it was in a pained whisper. "Two days."

Loki was stunned. _This_ was why she'd been kept away from him for so long. She'd been pregnant. He silently cursed Frigga - she had to have been behind this, to keep Eira hidden from him, to not tell him of the child. But why? And why send her back to his bed just two days after she gave birth? Frigga wasn't cruel, especially where other women were concerned...that part had to have been Odin's doing. But why had she said nothing in the kitchen just an hour ago?

He kept his voice as soothing as he could, even though his temper was threatening to boil over out of control.

"Eira, darling, where is the baby?"

Her voice trembled when she answered.

"The queen took him." 

He should have known.

"Have you been cared for?"

She nodded, but from the state of her, Loki knew she was lying to keep him from flying into a rage. 

"I'm going to get the physician. They'll send him if I call for him." He kissed her forehead lightly, noting how feverish her skin felt against his lips. "Lie still and rest, my love. I'm going to take care of you."

 

It took some shouting, but a patrol guard finally switched off the dimmer on the energy shield and listened to Loki's demands for the doctor. When the physician arrived a short time later, he took one look at Eira and asked why she wasn't in her own cell - he'd been attending her there and his instructions had been for her to rest and be checked on every few hours. Loki had his suspicions, but sharing them with the prison doctor wasn't going to accomplish anything, so he kept silent and paced the cell while Eira was tended to.

"She needs to rest," he finally told Loki, his voice mildly accusing. Loki shook his head in disbelief - as if _he_ were the one who had summoned her to his cell for entertainment. Again he bit his tongue and kept silent.

"I want her left here with me," he told the physician as he was leaving; it was more of a statement than a request, and his tone wasn't lost on the man. "See what you can do. I'll look after her until she is stronger, and then she can be returned to her cell if Odin demands it."

The doctor nodded in agreement, responding to reason and common sense. The woman obviously needed someone watching over her for a day or two.

"I'll see what I can do."

 

When Frigga's image appeared in his cell later that night, Loki stalked up close to it and with a threatening snarl demanded to know why she'd kept this from him.

"It was for the best, Loki," she said in defense of her actions.

"Is that the best you can do, Mother? It was _for the best?_ The best for _whom?"_

"Please calm down, son. Listen to me. She was having difficulty with the pregnancy and Odin wanted her to continue being sent to you. It wouldn't have been good for her to - "

"To _what?_ " he snarled, moving dangerously close to the flickering image, so close that his breath touching it could have caused the connection to be terminated. "To be assaulted by me while she was pregnant with my child?!" He shook his head and stepped away, his tense body betraying the fury he was keeping barely contained. "You should know better by now, Mother...you should know that time is far behind us."

"I wasn't sure..."

"Well you're sure now. I want her left with me, Mother. I'll tend to her and Odin need never know she's not in her own cell. I know you can orchestrate such a _deception_...it seems to be your specialty."

Frigga opened her mouth to speak but Loki waved her image away with his hand.

 

Somehow, she managed to grant Loki his wish. Eira was left in his cell for two days, during which time he took care of her, making sure she rested and helping her heal. With constant tending, she began to recover her strength and her spirits improved, but her body was sore and recovery was slow. Loki noticed she winced in pain frequently, her hands covering her breasts. They were noticeably swollen.

"What can I do?" he asked gently.

She looked at him with tear filled, pleading eyes.

"Can you get your mother to let me see him?"

He hugged her to him, careful not to hold her too tightly.

"I'll see what I can do."

 

 

_To be continued..._

 


	19. Chapter 19

 

 

_"Give her her child, Mother!"_

"Loki - "

"Do _not_ try to reason with me, woman - don't tell me you did the best thing, that it was in _anyone's_ best interests but your _own_. Did you even wait until the cord was cut before you snatched him up and claimed him as yours? Did you pull him from her womb yourself, so anxious to gain control of my heir?"

"Loki, please - "

"Give him back to her, Mother!!"

" _I cannot!_ Loki, she cannot raise your son in a dungeon cell. Think about what you're asking."

Loki went silent, his anger abating, settling into a seething rage that enabled him to think more clearly about his words. He lowered his voice to a less threatening tone. "She's suffering, Mother. Let her at least nurse him. She has milk, let her feed him."

"I have chosen nursemaids for the child."

"Why? She is his mother, he needs _her_ milk. Let her be nursemaid to him. Please Mother...bring him to her to feed, that's all I ask. It will help her recover."

Frigga's face suddenly showed concern. "Is she not doing well?"

Loki shook his head and gave a derisive laugh. "No, she is not. Have you not bothered to at least ask the physician about her progress? Or were you content to steal the child from between her legs while he was still wet and then forget about her?" He sneered at her, letting his words bite hard. "She's ill...she's tired and weak. She's exhausted and yet they _still_ brought her to me to be whored - they brought her to me _not three days_ since she gave birth.  I suppose that is part of her punishment...to be impregnated again before she's even stopped bleeding."

Frigga's face had gone pale. "That was never my intention, Loki. She was not to be taken to you until she'd recovered. Your father - "

_"HE'S NOT MY FATHER!!"_

She sighed. " _Odin_ \- has complete control over when she's taken to you. Ordinarily he doesn't care and the heads of security between the two prisons work it out amongst themselves depending on when a guard complement can be spared. I do not know if this was deliberate - "

"Oh it was deliberate, I can promise you," Loki cut her off, beginning to pace angrily again. "He was hoping to cause her as much pain and grief as he could so soon after what was obviously a difficult delivery." He rolled his eyes and glared at the ceiling. "Does his cruelty know no bounds?"

"Loki, we are fortunate he didn't have the child destroyed the moment he learned of its existence."

"What?" Surely not even Odin...no, _not even Odin_. Odin, who had plucked him as an infant from the icy rock - even though it was an act of treachery instead of compassion, he still at least had it in him to not harm an innocent newborn. He wouldn't kill an heir to his own throne...would he?

"Think about it, my son...she is the queen of Svelnheim. You are a prince of Asgard. You are Jotun and Aesir, she is Dragonkind. What will the child become?"

Loki was quiet for a moment, lost in thought. When he finally spoke, it was with a chilling venom in his voice that didn't even sound like him.

" _He will become Odin's downfall_."

 

When Eira was brought to him that night, she had a tiny bundle in her arms, wrapped tightly in silk cloth. She held it close to her chest so that no one could steal a look at what she carried. Her chains were removed and the disruptor bracelet was clamped around her wrist, but before they put her into the cell, another bracelet, smaller, was brought from the captain's pocket; he reached for the bundle, but Eira pulled away from him with a warning glare. She took the bracelet from him and fished one tiny little arm from inside the wrappings, slipping it on over the smallest hand Loki had ever seen. He watched anxiously from inside the barrier, standing so close that his breath caused the energy shield to crackle and hiss.

When at last the guards put her and the baby into the cell and dimmed the walls, Loki was momentarily frozen where he stood; his heart was pounding so loudly in his ears that he barely heard Eira speaking to him.

"Here is your son, Loki."

She sat down on the edge of the bed and laid the bundle down on the blankets, gently unwrapping the silken cloth till a little pink face appeared. The baby was sleeping. Loki moved silently over to the bed and stood beside Eira, peering over her shoulder at the infant. His son. He was tiny and perfect, and after a long while, Loki smiled, his hands going to Eira's shoulders to affectionately squeeze her. She looked up at him and took one of his hands, pulling him down to sit beside her.

"He's so small," was all Loki could find to say; and even with so few words, his voice wavered with emotion.

"He is fine and strong," Eira whispered proudly. She watched Loki's face for a long moment, then rested her head against his shoulder. "Look at what we did."

He laughed softly under his breath. "Yes...look at what we did."

 

 

 

_To be continued..._


	20. Chapter 20

 

 

Frigga made the necessary arrangements for the child to be brought to Eira once a day, on the grounds that Loki behave himself. He agreed, setting a tentative truce between himself and his mother. But she wouldn't allow the baby to be taken to Eira's cell; so Eira would first be taken to Loki, and then the infant would be brought to them. The arrangement suited them and guaranteed they would have time together every day, not just when it was convenient for the prison coordinators. 

"You should thank your mother, Loki," Eira chided him as she rocked the baby. "She's putting herself at considerable risk to do this for us."

Loki was pouting at the mention of Frigga, still angry with her for her deception. He shook his head. "She kept you from me for months, Eira. She never told me you were pregnant, she never told me about the baby. She let me think you were dead." He stopped pacing as Eira reached her hand out to him and he took it, letting her tug him toward the bed. "I can't forgive that."

"Shhh...Loki...sometimes all we can do is forgive those who wrong us."

He gave her a cockeyed look. "Said the dragon who torched an entire city for making too much noise during a wedding feast."

She laughed quietly, covering the baby's ears so she wouldn't wake him. "That event was _greatly_ exaggerated for the history books."

Loki sat down beside her on the bed and put his hand on the baby's head. "Don't worry about him, my love - regardless of how I may feel about her at the moment, my mother will take good care of him."

"I know."

He looked at her, taking in her tired face, the look of exhaustion in her eyes. "Did she attend the delivery?"

Eira nodded.  "She delivered him herself."

Loki shook his head, but she touched his face with her fingertips to bring his gaze back to hers. "She helped me, Loki. They were going to leave me to do it alone, but she threatened the guard until he let her in. I doubt I would have survived without her assistance."

His face clouded over with anger, then concern. "Was it difficult?" His heart began to ache when she nodded. She was so small, even though the baby wasn't huge it had to have been hard for her. To have been callously left alone in her cell to give birth by herself - she must have been so scared and in pain. He felt rage again, more hatred than he'd ever felt, all for Odin.

"I'm so sorry...I'm sorry I didn't know, Eira. They wouldn't have let me be there even if I had known, but - I just wish I could have known." His voice broke and Eira pressed her finger to his lips to silence him.

"Everything is alright now, Loki. Your anger helps no one."

"No...but it gives me a reason."

She looked confused. "A reason?"

His face softened for a moment as his eyes fell to his little son's raven black hair; then just as quickly, the mask of simmering, barely contained anger fell back into place. "A reason to find a way out of here."

 

They lay together on the bed, taking comfort in each other's touch as they watched the sky darken above them. The faded blue and diminishing clouds had made Eira cry when she noticed how sadly they had fallen into disrepair, so he rebuilt the illusion for her and added more colors. The baby was asleep in the crook of Loki's arm.

"I want you, Eira."

"I know Loki. Soon."

"I know I must wait...I can be patient." His voice went soft. "Doesn't mean I want to be."

She turned on her side to snuggle up against him. The tenseness in his muscles had finally begun to dissipate and he was no longer tightly wound, as if ready to strike at a moment's notice, though she could tell by the way his eyes darted often to the front wall of the cell that he was watching everything. It made her feel safe, but he obviously needed rest that wouldn't come as long as she and the baby were with him.

"You should try to sleep, Loki," she whispered. "We will be brought back to you tomorrow, your mother has promised." She felt his back tense at the mention of Frigga.

"I am fine, little one." 

A few long moments passed in silence, till Eira slipped her hand down Loki's stomach and let her palm come to rest against the top of his breeches. She felt his breath catch as he closed his eyes, then his hand came up to rest on top of hers. "It's alright Eira...you need to rest too."

They finally slept, the sky darkening to black and the stars coming out to twinkle down on them. For the first time in months, Loki was able to close his mind enough to find rest, with his love breathing quietly next to him and their child asleep between them.

 

In the morning when the guards came to take Eira, they brought a little wooden cradle and set it just inside the barrier wall. The baby was left with Loki to be retrieved by one of Frigga's personal servants. He held him, bouncing him gently against his chest as he watched Eira being shackled and bound in the hallway; it seemed so unnecessary now, did they truly think she would risk harm to her child by fighting them? He was sure she was capable, even in her weakened state, but something about her had changed and the fierce animal she seemed to be on the inside had become...what? _Tamed?_   The thought disturbed him.

He smiled as she gave him one last look before they led her away. They still kept their interactions to a minimum in the presence of the guards, full well aware that any outward show of affection could result in added leverage any time they chose to punish either of them. They could easily be denied access to one another if a guard realized it was the one thing they wanted the most. So they stood apart, rarely touching, never speaking, only breaking the wall between them once the dimmers were in place and no one could see them. It was how it had to be.

 

As he waited for Frigga's servant to come for the baby, Loki moved the little cradle over next to his bed and folded one of his blankets to make a soft surface inside it. He realized with amusement that someone somewhere must be laughing at the cosmic joke that had been played on him - Loki, God of Mischief, God of Chaos, God of Lies and Deceit, purveyor of trouble and mayhem...the list of his titles went on and on, none of them truly flattering, and yet here he stood in a prison cell with a newborn in his arms, trying to figure out how to put him down without waking him. 

_Loki, lover of the Dragon Queen...husband of Eira...father of..._

"You have no name, little son." He looked around, entirely uncertain of what he was supposed to do next. "Well, we shall have to remedy that when your mother returns." He tucked the baby gently into the cradle, rocking it slowly to keep him from waking as he sat on the edge of the bed to wait.

 

 

 _To be continued.._.


	21. Chapter 21

 

 

Loki pressed his palm to Eira's stomach, noting how it still felt soft and pliable under his hand. Her entire body felt different, less taut and powerful, definitely softer and more feminine. He liked it.

"I wish I could have seen you while you were with child," he whispered, letting his hand roam slowly over her belly to her hip, where his fingers explored her new curves with relish. She smiled, allowing him to touch her freely. She didn't wince with discomfort so much now when he put his hands on her, a sign that she was healing well, and Loki found himself excited at the prospects this fact presented him.

"You did," she replied. "Frigga said I was five months when she stopped me coming to you."

Loki sat up and looked down at her, confused. "And you didn't tell me?"

"I didn't know. I would have told you had I known."

"But - " He hesitated, not understanding. "Don't women know by that point? How could you not have at least suspected - ?"

Eira reached up to stroke his back with her hand. "Loki, this isn't my body. I have no idea how it works...everything it does is a mystery to me, even more than it would be to you." She sat up and kissed his shoulder. "I'm inside here, but this isn't me."

His face softened. "I keep forgetting...it's all alien to you, isn't it."

"Yes." She let him take her into his arms and move her around to his front, across his lap. "When Frigga's physician told me I had a child inside me, I didn't understand. All I knew was that I just kept getting bigger and bigger, and when I felt it moving I started to realize what was happening." She snuggled close to him with a sigh. "That was when I finally understood. Frigga explained it to me...she told me you had put it there."

"She visits you?"

"The same way she visits you. The only time she's really come to my cell was when it was time for him to be born."

Loki pressed his hand against her stomach, letting his fingers caress her lovingly. He didn't want to talk about Frigga. "Do you know _how_ I put it there?" he asked teasingly.

"I'm fairly certain it had something to do with this," she answered with a quick pat to the front of his breeches. Loki grabbed her hand to keep her from taking it away, his voice dropping to a low growl as he pulled her up tight to him and whispered against her neck, "If you're not careful I'll put another inside you."

She groaned as he slipped his own hand down and touched her; she was still sore, her soft parts bruised and stressed from the difficult delivery, but she didn't stop him. He only paused long enough to still his hand when he felt her flinch, giving her time to indicate whether she wanted him to continue or not.

"Eira...?"

She looked at him, her face soft with love, but her eyes showed hesitation. Loki kissed her, moving his hand from her lap to her face to stroke her cheek. He could wait.

It had been almost two weeks since the birth and he had been patiently waiting for any sign from her that she was ready to accept his attentions again. Aside from some playful flirtations, she hadn't indicated any real desire for him, so he had kept his inclinations under control and behaved. When the baby slept, they talked or lay together on the bed watching the sky roll slowly across the ceiling...sometimes during the night she would stroke him, helping him find release, though he missed her body miserably and wanted more than anything to join with her again. When the baby was awake Eira fed him and Loki entertained him with illusions of wolf puppies tumbling in the grass. It was all very domestic and comfortable, if one didn't consider the fact that the happy family was living in a prison cell.

 

Frigga kept her promises, and they were allowed to be together every night while Eira nursed the baby. Sometimes he was left with them overnight, and sometimes she sent her servant to retrieve him before they retired to bed; Loki assumed she imagined herself to be showing them a kindness by letting them have time alone, but Eira had a hard time handing her son over to the servant on those nights. Loki stayed silent, not wanting to upset her more, but decided to speak with his mother about it. 

He watched her nurse their son, sitting beside her with his arms around them both; there was no denying the child was his, though he had never really doubted it for a moment. The possibility of the guards having their way with her when she wasn't with him had crossed his mind a time or two in the past, but she had never said anything that would indicate such a thing had ever happened, and the baby himself was all the proof anyone needed - his eyes had shifted from newborn silvery blue to a bright green, and his hair was black as coal. Even Loki could see that the child looked exactly like him.

Eira winced when the baby bit her and Loki laughed. "He is his father's son," she said with mild irritation, switching him to her other breast while Loki slipped his hand down from her shoulder to soothe the sore nipple. She heard him laughing quietly and pushed her elbow into his ribs. " _Obviously_ you don't understand how much that hurts!"

"Obviously," he agreed, still grinning as his fingertips caressed her, stroking and gently rubbing at her nipple as he lowered his lips to her earlobe and began nibbling there. 

"Loki..."

"Mmmm...yes?"

He waited to see what her next word would be. He fully intended to obey it, no matter what it was.

She hesitated for just a moment, then almost sadly whispered, "Please stop."

He stopped immediately, without argument, though not without regret.

 

Frigga's servant came to retrieve the baby after nightfall, and Loki noticed that Eira was brushing away tears after the woman left, her arms clutched tightly across her chest. He tried to coax her to open her arms to him, but she remained rigid till he finally just wrapped his own arms around her and held her close to him, soothing her with words that he wasn't sure she wanted to hear.

"Mother just wants us to have time alone together again," he whispered softly against the top of her head. "She's obviously been taking good care of him, he seems very healthy - "

Eira tried to wrench herself out of his arms, so he let go of her and watched her move angrily away from him. She didn't say anything and he didn't pressure her; he just went to sit on the edge of the bed and waited for her to speak to him again.

Eventually she came to him and stood silently in front of him. He looked up and saw her staring at his hands. He raised one and she took it, letting him pull her down onto his knee where he cuddled her like a child, letting her cry against his neck until she felt better. Eventually she stopped and he brushed her hair back off her face, lifting her chin to look at her.

"I'm sure this won't make much sense to you, sweetheart, but I think your hormones may be making you irritable."

She nodded, not knowing what he meant but willing to agree anyway. He laughed softly and shifted her on his lap so that she was closer to him. "Just another one of those alien things this sweet little body throws at you."

She looked down at herself. "I've changed. It's all different now."

Loki smiled. "Yes, it is," he agreed, taking her hand and kissing it before pressing it to her side, using his own hand to guide hers over her hip and down her thigh, making her feel her new, fuller curves and softness.

"I'd just gotten used to the old one."

"Shhh," Loki said quietly. "You're still you, my love." He dragged her hand back up, over her belly to her breasts where he pressed her palm to the lush fullness hidden under the bodice of her dress. She winced a bit, but Loki wouldn't let her pull her hand away. "See how beautiful you feel?" he whispered against her cheek as he let his fingers brush against the taut outline of her nipple through the thin fabric. She sighed softly and he took the opportunity to squeeze her breast harder before she could stop him.

"Loki - "

"Lie down, Eira...let me pleasure you."

"Loki, please..."

He listened to her voice, knowing it was only hesitation he heard and not true refusal. He understood that she was probably afraid to let him make love to her; she was sore and bruised and having sex with him meant letting him invade her where she'd recently pushed a baby out. The thought of it made _him_ wince; but he would pay attention to her, and if it hurt too much or she truly wanted him to stop, he would obey.

"I won't hurt you, my love," he assured her as he laid her onto her back on the bed, moving himself over her quickly. He tugged the top of her dress down and began kissing her breasts, enjoying their new fullness, the hardness of her nipples as he licked and sucked at them. She flinched at first, moaning in discomfort, but after he'd gently rubbed them a bit with his fingers she started to relax. "I want to taste you," he whispered. "Please...?" He massaged her left nipple with his hand while he tugged softly at her right with his lips, till he felt the sudden swelling rush of her milk letting down; he filled his mouth with as much of her breast as he could take in and sucked hard, moaning with pleasure as her warm milk flowed over his tongue and down his throat.

She arched her back under him as he lapped and sucked at her, his cock growing hard and heated against her thigh. Soon he felt her hands on him, pushing at his hips, moving up to his chest; he thought she was trying to push him away and groaned miserably, prepared to stop and respect her wishes, but soon realized she was trying to get his clothes off. He detached his mouth from her breast and sat up to pull his tunic off over his head, then unfastened his breeches and wriggled out of them while she unbuttoned the rest of her dress and pushed it down over her hips. Loki looked down at her with appreciation, letting his eyes drink her in, running them hotly over her pretty curved waist till they lingered at the soft little mound hidden between her thighs. A wide grin settled across his lips and he pressed his hands to her legs, ready to part them so he could have access to her.

But first he needed her permission.

 _"May I?"_   he asked, his voice low and growly with desire. He could see in her expression that she was unsure, but her reactions a moment ago had betrayed her own desire and he knew she wanted him...she simply needed a little encouragement, which he was more than willing to give. He let his hands stroke her thighs lightly, his long fingers digging into her flesh just enough to make her aware of the urgency of his need.

"I won't hurt you Eira, I promise."

She finally found her voice, although it sounded small and scared when she used it. "I'm really sore... _there_..." Loki felt her pressing her thighs tighter together, indicating that _there_ meant between them. He smiled kindly, his expression growing tender.

"I'll be gentle with you, little one...I won't even put myself inside you unless you say you want me to." His grin grew wicked again. "My tongue is soft...you'll feel nothing but pleasure, you have my word."

Urging her legs apart very slowly with his hands, she finally let him spread her and closed her eyes as he lowered his head to her. He kissed her, lightly, across her lower stomach and slowly down till he reached her soft swollen little pussy, where he very gently touched her with his tongue. She flinched at the cool touch, but didn't stop him. 

For several long moments he licked and kissed her, letting his tongue move lightly across her soft folds and up to her clit where he sucked very gently, listening to her soft moans, delighting in the bump of her thighs against his cheeks as she began pushing her hips up. She was getting wet, and he lapped her juices with his tongue, loving the heady taste of her.

 _"Please, Loki - "_ she gasped, her hands pressed to her face so that he couldn't see her expression; her voice could easily have been pleading for him to stop or begging him to continue, but he didn't know which it was. He stopped and reached up to take her elbow in his hand, tugging her arm down.

"What is it, sweetheart?"

He could feel her stomach trembling as she repeated herself... _"Please, Loki..."_

"Please what, baby? What do you need?" He moved up over her so that he was face to face with her, trying to gently pry her other hand away so that he could see her eyes. He hoped she wasn't crying. "What is it, my love?"

She finally let him pull her hand away from her eyes and he could see that she was, indeed, crying. His heart sank. He wiped her cheeks with the palm of his hand, brushing away the tears while he kissed her tenderly on the corners of her mouth, telling her he was sorry. She was shaking her head and he mistook it for rejection; he felt horrible for rushing her, for trying to convince her she was ready when she'd indicated to him twice that she wasn't. He kept kissing her softly, murmuring over and over that he loved her.

When finally she spoke again, Loki was shocked that her words weren't a request to be left alone - he'd been ready for that, waiting for her to push him away, but instead she whispered against his lips, "Please Loki... _I want you inside me_."

He was taken aback for a moment, stunned by her unexpected reaction. "Why are you crying, darling?" he finally asked. He had to be sure she really meant it, not just saying what she thought he wanted to hear from her.

She looked him in the eyes for a few seconds and then looked away, ashamed at her own weakness. She'd never been afraid of anything in her life; she was an apex predator, but now, in this frail body, she was at the mercy of anyone bigger than her. It was shameful. But she trusted Loki not to make her feel worse.

"I'm afraid it'll hurt," she finally admitted in a small voice. When Loki sighed with relief and started to smile, she hurried on. "It was so horrible, Loki...it hurt so much, I thought I was dying...it felt like being ripped open, and now it still hurts to even go pee...but I want you _so much_..."

"Shhhh, darling...it's alright...I want you too, but it can wait until you're sure."

She shook her head, fresh tears beginning to fall. "No - I'm sure _now_." She gave him a pleading look. "Please Loki...would you?"

Her words touched him. "I will." He smiled again when he saw her face relax, her bravery settling back into place where she had been heartbreakingly vulnerable just moments ago. "I will."

 

He kissed and stroked and caressed her for a long while, preparing her, getting her ready to accept him and giving her the time she needed to get her head around what was about to happen. He was worried about her fear - in all the time he'd known her, long ago before they cared about one another, they had fought so many times and he had struck her hard enough to knock her unconscious more times than he could remember; he had pushed her, shoved her, knocked her into walls, kicked her, abused her physically to the point of nearly killing her more than once...aside from that he had forced himself on her countless times, ripping her soft insides, making her bleed, bruising her till she gnawed a gash into her own lip to hold back her screams of pain...and yet she had _never_ shown fear, not once, not ever. She had defied him and fought back, knowing provocation of his rage would result in him hurting her more - but she had never been afraid of the possibility of injury.

But yet the prospect of _this_ pain genuinely scared her. He had no idea how difficult her delivery of the baby had been, but when he was younger he'd heard his mother talking to midwives about the horrible things that can happen during a birth, particularly when the mother is small and the baby is large. It had always sounded horrible, but it didn't concern him; this was womens' business, men had no interest in what went on in the birthing chambers so long as their sons emerged strong and healthy. But now he found himself wishing he understood better. What could make a woman as strong as Eira so afraid of something as pleasant as sex?

It had been weeks since the birth, surely she was alright by now...? He was starting to rethink the urgency of his need when he felt her begin returning his kisses, her hands tugging his hair as she pressed herself closer to him. He still wanted her, badly, but he could wait...it had been a long four months away from her and he'd been aching for her all that time, but one more night was do-able...his thoughts were racing, distracting him from his desire, until he felt her hands slide down his back and squeeze him, right where the backs of his thighs met his bum. 

_"Please, Loki..."_

Her voice was all the courage he needed.

He settled between her legs and touched her, relieved to find her wet and ready for him. He whispered quietly into her ear as he very slowly pressed his cock against her folds, nudging into them, listening carefully to the sounds she made in reaction so that he could tell if he was hurting her. She gasped and gripped his arms tightly when he pushed up against her opening, so he stopped and waited, kissing her tenderly on her closed eyelids. "It's alright darling...it'll be okay..." When she relaxed again he went ahead and pushed slowly into her.

She cried out and arched her back, slamming her chest into his violently, but he was able to still her and she calmed again quickly. _"I'm sorry, I'm sorry sweetheart,"_ he whispered, shushing her till her sobs faded and she lay still beneath him again. He watched her face for a moment, deciding whether he should continue or not. She opened her eyes after a long while and looked up at him, finally giving him a little nod that told him it was okay.

He felt her brace against him as he started moving inside her, her face showing her discomfort until he had thrust several times to get completely into her.  Despite having just given birth, she was still tight around him, but she was very wet and he was able to move easily once she relaxed her muscles.  After the initial pain was past and she started responding to him, Loki found a new pleasure in the softness of her body; they had always bruised each other with their hipbones before, but now he felt the soft cushion of her belly and hips as he pushed against her.  Her ribcage had always been solid beneath his hands, now he was able to press his fingers into her flesh before he felt the hardness of her bones.  When he reached under her to squeeze her bottom, the delicious roundness of her cheeks in his palms made his cock twitch with increased desire, and the lush fullness of her breasts pressing against his chest intensified his arousal.  She was more beautiful than she'd ever been.  

He took her as gently as he could, restraining himself, not letting his thrusts become too hard or too quick; it wasn't long before he felt her letting go, the tension of her body dissipating as pleasureful sensations replaced the discomfort she'd felt at first.  He sensed she was getting close to her climax and he began stroking her clit, softly at first till she indicated approval by pushing her hips up against him, her soft moans becoming louder and more urgent as he stroked her more firmly.  When he felt her begin to shudder under him, he pressed his lips to her ear and whispered, _"I love you, Eira...I will always love you."_

She grabbed his hair and groaned loudly as her orgasm started to overtake her senses.  She bit into his shoulder, muffling her cries, her body arching up against him hard as he thrust down.  She was finishing her climax as his began; but despite the intensity, he kept himself tightly reined in, refusing to lose control lest he accidentally hurt her.  He grit his teeth and held back until he heard her voice against his ear - 

_"I love YOU Loki...I will always love you."_

His release took him then, in a white hot blinding flash of delicious pain mixed with unbearable pleasure.  He pulled out of her before he ejaculated, letting his seed spill onto her thighs, gasping for breath as his body trembled uncontrollably.  Eira soothed him, stroking his back with her hands and kissing his brow until he collapsed onto her, completely spent.

Over his shoulder she watched the twinkling stars flicker, almost going out for a moment, before they brightened again.  She laughed quietly against Loki's neck when she spotted a small thunderstorm brewing in the corner, its silent bolts of lightning sending flashes of light across the dark blue sky; he had to have been concentrating on this little illusion to keep himself from losing control.  

She hugged him tightly to her, listening to his breathing as it settled back into a comfortable rhythm against her throat.  They fell asleep while the little storm above them calmed itself into a soothing rain.

 

 

_To be continued..._

 

 


	22. Chapter 22

 

 

When the baby was three months old, Loki finally gave him a name. Eirik, which in the Old Tongue meant King Forever; it was intended as a personal affront to Odin and he knew the old man would take it as exactly what it was. He proudly gave the child the surname Lokisson, officially claiming him as his own son and heir despite having no legal marriage to his mother. He made Frigga promise to take the boy and raise him as her own, making her swear an oath to never allow his name to be changed or for him to be raised as anything other than what and who he was - the son of Loki and Eira, Prince of Asgard and Queen of Svelnheim. Frigga swore to it, never asking why he needed such an oath to be taken. She had always known prison wouldn't hold Loki for long, and now the restless look in his eyes told her he had waited long enough to make his move. The only thing that had kept him behind those walls was Eira.

He would never leave her behind. She was well now, strong again, and he had been plotting and planning for weeks, asking his mother to send him various books - dangerous books - that she had to take great care in acquiring, lest someone grow suspicious. He studied and read, learning and memorizing, till the day arrived when Eira found him sitting on the floor on the far side of the bed, the dagger laying on the cold stone next to him, blood pouring down his chest to pool in his lap. She waited until the guards had dimmed the walls, then ran to him, already knowing what he'd done.

A second rune was gone, carved from his flesh in a neat, meticulously cut wound that went so deep she could see raw muscle flinching beneath it. "Oh Loki," she groaned as she gathered her skirt in her hands to press against the injury; it was new and hadn't begun clotting yet. "Why are you doing this, my love?"

He turned his head to look at her. His eyes were half closed, drowsy from blood loss, but he smiled weakly and raised a finger to stroke her cheek. His voice was barely more than a whisper when he finally spoke.

"I can't let you die in this place."

 

Each rune was set deeper in his skin, he had found once he'd begun cutting. Each subsequent mark bound a stronger part of him, a more deeply rooted ability. He wasn't sure what this particular rune had been protecting, but once it was out of him he'd felt a dizzying rush of power that he didn't feel the first time. He knew then that his most lethal skills would be bound in the markings closest to his heart, and that they would be the most difficult to remove.

He'd considered cutting them all out at once, but besides the blood loss and pain of slicing away his own skin and muscle, there was a punishing magic attached the runes - one that inflicted more pain than just the knife's blade. As the rune was torn away from his body it had to disattach from his spirit as well, and this was the part that hurt. Loki had to rest for an entire day to recover from just the one, so he put aside his idea of removing them all at once and decided he would go over his options later, once he was thinking clearly again. The breaking of the bond between himself and the mark had temporarily taken away his ability to reason.

Eira tended to him, cleaning him up and hiding his bloody clothes under the bed. When Frigga's servant arrived with the baby, she slipped the tightly bound bundle to her, whispering "Have these washed and returned," as she took her son from the woman's arms. The servant nodded, tucked Loki's clothes under her frock, and left without a word.

The guards didn't give any of them a second look as they dimmed the walls again and left the couple on their own.

 

Loki slept, recovering, while Eira fed the baby and tidied the cell, trying to keep herself busy so that she wouldn't think about what he was doing to himself for her. She glanced at the books he'd been reading, but none of it made sense to her, and much of it was in a tongue she wasn't familiar with. She checked his wound while he slept and noticed that the bleeding didn't seem to be slowing...she wasn't sure what to do, as they didn't have any allies besides each other. Frigga had shown herself willing to help when she could, but each time she made an accession for them she put herself at grave risk; losing her would be an unrecoverable blow, and they couldn't take that chance.

She sat beside him putting pressure on his chest with her hands to try to staunch the bleeding. His skin was growing paler, beginning to take on a bluish tint that worried her. She knew he could change his visible form, but watching it happen while he drifted in and out of consciousness was disconcerting. When Frigga's servant returned to retrieve the baby, Eira started to protest that it had been scarcely an hour since she'd brought him, but the woman shook her head sharply at her and stood with her back to the transparent wall as she took a small bundle from under her shawl and passed it into Eira's hands. She took the baby and left, cooing lovingly at him, acting as if nothing had just transpired.

When the walls were dimmed again, Eira opened the bundle and found a small bottle of black powder and a second bottle of clear liquid. They were labeled in a fancy scrolled writing that she couldn't read.

"Loki," she whispered, shaking him gently by the shoulder, "I need your help. I don't know what this is. What do I do with it?"

Loki slowly opened his eyes and Eira was startled to find they'd gone red - not bloodshot, but Jotun red. She didn't think he realized it and the fact that he wasn't in control of his transformation scared her.

 _"Tell me what this says,"_ she pleaded, holding the black powder bottle in front of his face. He squinted, focusing on the tiny words till a small smile crept across his lips.

"Oh Mother...you devious old bitch."

 

He read the other bottle's label and then instructed Eira to pour the black powder into his wound, as it would stop the bleeding. The second bottle was to be poured over the powder to seal the injury and force it to heal. He watched her closely as she broke the bottle's seal and removed the stopper.

"How did she know to send these?"

"I gave her servant your clothes. She must have taken them to Frigga."

Loki reached out to put his hand over hers and felt her trembling. "You did good, little one. Thank you."

The powder burned when it went into his wound and the sealant hurt even worse, but Loki sucked in his breath and gritted his teeth until the bubbling and hissing stopped and the searing pain dulled to an annoying ache. Within a few hours the gaping wound had begun to scar over and the bleeding had completely stopped.

 

They sat in silence for most of the night, each knowing what the other was thinking. Eira knew Loki intended to get her out, one way or another, and Loki knew Eira wanted to stop him from doing anything risky to save her. He would be freed from prison eventually - once Odin's injured pride had been soothed by an adequate number of years watching his haughty son wilt inside a cell, all would be forgiven and Loki would be released and restored. But Eira was a prize that would be kept on display forever. Odin would never free her.

And this was a prospect that Loki couldn't accept.

He would rather die or be an exile forever than watch her paraded down the corridor in chains one more day.

 

But Odin had far worse in mind.

 

On the first day of the Festival of Twelve Nights, he had her manacled and brought to the palace auditorium as a showpiece for the enjoyment of all the dignitaries of the realm. When the great Dragon Queen was led out, stumbling and half dragged by chains thicker than her arms, the crowd erupted into cheers so loud that Loki heard them in his cell below the auditorium. He asked the shift guard what the noise was about.

"Old One-Eye brought out his favorite toy," the guard sneered, grinning a horrible cold smile that chilled Loki to his bones. "Coincidentally, she seems to be _your_ favorite toy, too." He snorted, resuming his patrol down the corridor. _"Like father like son."_

 

The prisoners across the corridor rushed to the back of their cell, shouting in panic for the guards; the lights in the corridor dimmed and the energy barriers on every cell in the block sparked and fluttered briefly as Loki dropped to his knees screaming, uncontrolled rage bursting out of him in flashes of green sparks that burned black charred holes into the walls. When his voice was gone and the lights stopped flashing, he remained on his knees, his head dropped back and his eyes closed, reciting something from the ancient tongue over and over as the guards assembled outside the barrier and watched him with their weapons drawn.  No one wanted to be the first to go near him.

He lowered his head and looked at them, his eyes showing them everything they feared.

  
The God of Chaos was unleashed.

 

 

 

_To be continued..._


	23. Chapter 23

 

 

Odin didn't deny Loki access to Eira after the ceremony; he wanted him to see her as she was, humiliated and brought low, but more than that he wanted the Dragon Queen to be used by her lover for his own enjoyment while her pride was still stinging.

He ordered that the walls be left transparent so anyone who wished to see her debasement need only glance into the cell. When Loki saw that the guards weren't going to dim the barrier, he knew what Odin was doing - and without a word, he grabbed Eira and pushed her up against the back wall, listening with barely contained fury as the guards and residents of the cell across the corridor began hooting and catcalling.

_"Go along with me,"_   he hissed into her ear, yanking her arm up behind her back just far enough to look like he was restraining her. She nodded enough for only him to see.

He began tearing her dress off her shoulders, holding her head against the wall with one hand as he bent down to bite the back of her neck roughly with his teeth. While she was mostly obscured by his body from the view of the onlookers, Loki moved both hands to her collar and slipped his fingers underneath it.

_"Do you trust me?"_

_"Yes."_

She could hear him chanting, low and quiet in a language she'd never heard, close to her ear.

He slipped his fingers under the collar and lifted it away from her skin so that it wasn't touching her. She felt a rush of something like electricity jolting through her body, sizzling its way through her nervous system till it became a cold heat that settled in her spine. Loki kept his body pressed against her to hide her from the prying eyes outside the cell, but when he looked down and saw the flesh down her side turning to shimmering blackened red scales, he smiled and moved away just far enough to let them have a glimpse. 

Eira realized what was happening far too late to stop it.

_"What are you doing?!"_

"I'm setting you free."

 

With the collar molding itself around his fingers and no longer touching her skin, its binding powers tried to shift to him; he knew it would kill him in a matter of seconds once it realized he was not its assigned host, but seconds were all he needed. 

Eira was no longer under the restrictive control of its engraved runes. 

A crowd had gathered outside the cell, watching rapt as the assault they thought they were going to witness turned into something else entirely.

Eira shifted, her primal form taking over her now unbound body inch by inch until she shimmered red, suddenly breaking free into the form she was born to.

_The Dragon Queen._

Loki let go of the collar as she morphed completely, stepping back as she suddenly filled most of the cell; she flung out her crimson feathered wings, touching both the east and west walls at once with her massive span. While the horrified crowd in the corridor was distracted by the awesome sight of her, Loki dove under the bed for the dagger. As he braced himself for what he was about to do, he heard Eira speaking to him inside his head.

_If you can get us out of this cell, I can get us out of Asgard._

He grabbed the dagger and held it over his chest. The tattooed runes began to shimmer with light, crackling as if to warn him off from what they knew he was going to do. He dug the sharp tip into his flesh and started cutting.

Eira did an impressive job of keeping all eyes off him long enough for him to accomplish his task, roaring and beating her wings, but the collar was reorganizing itself, its own runes reclaiming control, forcing her to revert back to her mortal form. But it was long enough of a distraction, and by the time she collapsed to the floor, completely transformed and bound again, Loki had finished.

He threw the bloody strip of flesh bearing his runes to the floor and stood, bleeding, his breath coming in great rasping heaves as he closed his eyes and felt his magic start to return.

It came in a rush that knocked him to the floor. As Eira watched, emerald light began sparking from his fingertips. He was convulsing as if caught in a seizure, but she stayed back from him, putting herself between him and the front barrier wall so she could keep an eye on the guards in the hallway; they would surely enter the cell soon, and Loki wouldn't be able to protect himself in this state. She picked up the dagger and slowly pointed it at the crowd, hoping to make good use of the shock and awe she knew she'd provoked.

In a few moments Loki groaned and pressed his hands to his face, composing himself as quickly as he could manage; his magic was coursing through his body, confused and disorganized, but he was starting to be able to feel it assembling itself in its familiar patterns inside him. He only needed one of his skills, just one - if he could find the one he needed, he and Eira would be free.

The barrier wall started to crackle and flutter as the captain of the guards punched in the keycode to disable it. Eira looked back at Loki, preparing herself to attack the moment the wall came down. They had only seconds left. She hoped he would look into her eyes one last time before it was over.

He did.

The second the wall deactivated, Loki raised his head and looked straight at her. She thought he was saying goodbye, but before she could blink he was beside her, tugging her up against him. She felt a sparking energy surround her, hot and cold at the same time, and heard him speaking to her through a foggy swirling haze.

_Close your eyes, Eira._

She obeyed and saw a glowing emerald light behind her eyelids as the force of a million rushing winds engulfed them.

 

The guards rushed the cell as soon as the barrier was down, but the two prisoners were gone; nothing remained of them except the destruction the dragon had left behind, and a trail of blood that ended where they'd been standing.

 

 

 

_To be continued..._


	24. Chapter 24

 

 

Odin stood in the corridor, staring into Loki's cell. It was empty, strewn with broken furniture and torn books, spattered with blood and charred bits of shattered stone. It looked like a fierce - albeit smallscale - battle had been fought there, though the reports from the guards were that no one had been involved except for Loki and the woman. He stared at the copious amounts of blood on the floor for several long moments before drawing in his breath and turning to the captain of the guards.

"Bring my wife to my chambers."

 

Loki and Eira appeared in the Queen's chambers, bloody and disoriented, Loki falling to his knees the moment they became visible. Eira supported him so that he wouldn't fall, looking desperately around the room to figure out where they were. A moment ago they'd been in the cell, then she'd felt violent winds and flashing green light, and now they were here, just a few feet from the Queen.

Frigga spun around and stifled a scream with her hand over her mouth when she saw them. The baby was in her arms; Eira met eyes with her and sobbed "Help us, please," as Loki's weight dragged her down.

Frigga pushed the infant into Eira's arms as she finished lowering Loki to the floor and pulled a blanket from the bed to support his head. He was barely conscious, but she knew she only had a few minutes at best to tend to him before they were discovered. She worked quickly, running to her apothecary cupboard to fetch potions and medicines, dumping one bottle full-strength down Loki's throat as she threw the rest into a satchel. 

"Loki can only teleport to places he's familiar with, so this will be one of the first places they'll look," she told Eira as she worked. "Take these," she said, setting the bag beside her. "He'll know what to do with them."  

Loki was choking on the potion she'd fed him, but his eyes were open now and he sat up on his own. He caught his breath enough to say, "The book, Mother."

Frigga touched his face, her eyes sad and afraid but full of adoration for her brave son. "I have it, Loki. Please, be careful."

Loki nodded and turned to Eira as Frigga pulled an ancient old tome from under the mattress of her bed and stuffed it into the satchel. He leaned his head down to kiss the baby on the forehead, clenching his eyes shut as he whispered "Goodbye, little son."

Frigga interrupted. "There are clean clothes for both of you." She pushed the bag into Loki's hands and got down on her knees beside him to kiss him quickly, holding him for just a moment the way she'd always held him when he was little. "I love you, my son." She nodded toward Eira and the baby. "I'll take care of the child, he'll be safe with me. You have my word."

Eira held the baby tight to her chest for a few more seconds, until Loki told her it was time to go. Handing him to Frigga and taking one last look, she helped Loki to his feet, and in the space of a heartbeat they were gone.

The guards entered just as Frigga was stepping one pace to her left to cover the bloodstains on the rug with the hem of her skirt.

"The King would see you, m'lady."

 

Despite his diminished physical state, Loki was able to teleport them to a place outside the city where they could hide long enough to recuperate. He knew there were deep caves here, as he and Thor had explored in them when they were children; Eira helped him climb the steep hill to the mouth of one of the caves, where he fell to his knees again, weak and drained. She fell down next to him and rested a moment before digging into the satchel for the medicines he needed.

Watching over her shoulder, he pointed out the ones that would close his wounds and she set to work on him quickly, remembering how to use the black powder and the sealing serum from before. Loki lay back to let her do her work and noticed for the first time that she was naked. He laughed softly.

"How did I miss this little detail?" he asked in a playfully mocking tone, trying hard to mask the discomfort in his voice as the serum burned like fire in his open wound. Eira looked down at herself, her face taking on an expression of mild surprise; in the chaos of their escape, she hadn't noticed either.

"The dragon and I don't wear the same dress size," she replied with a small smile.

 

Loki put up a masking illusion at the front of the cave to keep search parties from spotting them; unless someone cared to try to walk through what appeared to be solid rock, no one would find them here.

Holding the illusion was difficult while he was recovering from his injuries and it required most of his concentration just to keep the false stone wall from wavering and flickering, but he held it together as best he could. From a distance no one would notice it wasn't perfect. When he was stronger, it would become easier.

They had moved into the cave and Eira helped Loki change into the clean clothes Frigga had sent; she too was dressed now, he noticed with regret. He needed to rest, so Eira kept watch while he slept, allowing the healing potions to do their work on him.

 

Loki slept fitfully; Eira watched over him, dividing her time between scanning the landscape below for signs of search parties and making sure that he was still breathing.  She frequently saw a soft emerald light trailing beneath his skin, as if it was slowly coursing through his veins, sometimes escaping through his twitching fingertips in quick bursts of spark that dissipated upon touching the air. At one point she touched him and the green light shocked her...it was then that she finally started to feel safe, realizing that his magic was protecting him while it healed him, rejoining itself to its master.

When he finally awoke, it was past nightfall and the chill night air had begun seeping into the cave. Loki sat up slowly, his hand going to his chest. The runes were gone and the open wound where he'd gouged them out was now just a rough, uneven scar. His head hurt but he recognized it as the pain that always came after he'd used a tremendous amount of power, and a quick look at the dimly glowing green in his fingertips confirmed his conclusion. His magic had been hard at work while he rested. He looked at Eira and smiled.

"It seems I'm whole again."

She crept over next to him and wrapped herself around him.

"You're cold, little one," he said as he enclosed her in his arms and pulled her close. "I'll build us a fire."

"Won't they see the light?"

"Not this one." He winked at her and moved his hands in a graceful arc opposite each other, conjuring a glowing green flame between his palms which he held up in front of Eira's face. She smiled.

"It's warm."

"Yes," he nodded, "and it won't be visible beyond the mouth of this cave." He set it down gently, as if it were alive, and it exploded into a small fire that immediately began radiating heat throughout the cave.

They sat in silence for a while. Loki knew Eira was brave of spirit, but it was painfully obvious that her heart was aching. She'd had to say goodbye to her child and hand him over to a woman she barely knew, knowing she would likely never see him again. It hurt him too, deep in his heart, but he at least had the hope of being able to return to Asgard one day. Eira could not, and she knew it.

He tried to comfort her with kisses, but she started crying and his gentle affection quickly turned to a desperate need as she tried to push away her heartbreak with the distraction of his body. Loki was still tired, so he let her push him onto his back and climb on top of him, knowing she needed him and that her instincts were guiding her to do what was necessary to save herself. Once she was atop him, straddling his hips, she covered her face with her hands and he felt her whole body shaking with grief.

"Take what you need, Eira," he urged her gently, his hands resting lightly on her knees at his sides. He gave them a squeeze. "Take anything you want from me."

She remained as she was for a few moments more, as if she were pulling herself together; when she finally removed her hands from her face, she didn't even look at Loki as she began tugging his breeches off him. He helped her by lifting his hips so she could tug them down, then he tried to help her remove her dress but she pushed his hands away. The sadness in her face had been replaced with a fierce expression, almost like anger, and he instinctively knew he should let her have full control. He understood. She had been at the mercy of everyone around her, including him, and her losses had been too great to bear. Now she was liberated but still not quite free - the collar was still around her throat. He was going to take care of that, but not until his strength had completely returned or he would be putting them both at risk.

He lay back and let her do as she pleased. His body responded to the welcome pressure of her warmth against him, and soon he was achingly hard and wanting to participate, but he held himself in check and waited for her to take her pleasure. She rubbed herself against him till he felt her wetness on his stomach, then he closed his eyes as she raised up and lowered herself back down onto his cock, taking him in slowly to the hilt. She was so warm and soft and tight that he could barely keep himself from grabbing her and flipping her over onto her back, but he willed himself to behave. Eira needed this, to be in control, to feel like there was something in her life that nobody else was going to use to their advantage against her. He could give her this.

He let his hands slide up her thighs to her hips to help guide her as she thrust down against him; she didn't protest or push them away, so he let them move slowly around to her belly and then up to her breasts where he stroked her nipples with his thumbs. She groaned and pushed down on him harder, leaning forward to put her hands on either side of his head as she worked her hips on him. In moments he felt her coming, her insides tightening almost painfully on him, till her gasps and moans stopped and he heard a long, low cry start to erupt from her throat. He reached up and pressed his hand over her mouth, letting her bite his palm hard as he stifled her scream.

 

When she was finished, she fell down onto his chest, her body trembling. He removed his hand from her mouth and held her tightly, whispering softly to her to calm her as she slowly recovered from her climax. His cock was throbbing and he needed to come badly, but he waited, not wanting to rush her.

After a while her breathing returned to normal and she sat up, still holding him inside her. He looked up at her, his need evident in his expression, but he didn't move; his hands gripped her hips but he lay still as she started to move again, sliding up and down on the length of him. It only took a few strokes before he came, the release of the pent-up pressure sending dizzying shockwaves through him as he struggled to keep quiet through the blinding waves of pleasure. He opened his mouth and Eira leaned forward quickly to kiss him, drowning his cry before it left his throat. 

 

 

_To be continued..._


	25. Chapter 25

 

 

  
In the morning Loki found Eira sitting at the mouth of the cave, gazing up at the sky like a long lost lover. He felt a pang of jealousy when she turned her face to him and the look was gone. 

He knew then what he had to do.

He'd been playing over scenarios in his head all night, running options past himself, working out every possible ending for himself and Eira. But in the end, he knew who she was. She was the Dragon Queen, and she belonged to the sky, not to him.

He dug the old book out of the satchel and started reading.

 

"I meant what I said," Eira told him after a while. "I can get us away from here. If you do the same thing you did back in the cell, what you did with my collar - "

Loki shook his head. "I could only do that for a few seconds, darling. Any longer and the collar would turn on me. It knows it's not meant for me...it has the ability to kill anyone who tries to interfere with its hold on you." He watched her face fall, then quickly added, "I'll work out a more permanent solution, don't worry."

Eira flinched at the word _permanent_. It didn't escape Loki's notice, but she didn't say anything, so neither did he. He had reading to do.

 

That night Loki shook out the satchel, finding an extra bottle of healing powder and flesh sealant, as well as a drought for exhaustion and a little vial of something he suspected was Frigga's own personal creation - a potion from her apothecary that would prevent hunger and thirst for extended periods of time. They drank it, laughing at how their stomachs immediately felt full. He swallowed the last of the restorative potion she'd given him in her chambers and felt the warm medicine doing its work, helping his body finish recovering from the trauma his runes had caused. He would need to be at full capacity by morning.

Eira didn't say anything all evening, but Loki knew what she was thinking. She'd seen the etchings in the book he was reading, she knew he was teaching himself what was necessary for the removal of her collar and the release of her runes. He'd made a mistake in telling her the runes could turn against him if he tried to interfere with them...but he couldn't let her concern for his safety prevent him from doing what needed done.

After a long silence, he finally took her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. 

"Eira, listen to me darling...there's something I need to say to you."  She looked up at him with hesitation, but he knew he had to make this confession now, to help her understand why things had been done to her, before it was too late and he lost his chance to make it right.  "Odin's greatest desire was to tame you. It was his only wish where you were concerned, _but you beat him_. No matter what he tried, you defeated his intentions, despite being locked in his dungeon - despite being locked in this body." He let his hands slip down her arms to grasp her wrists, bringing her fingers to his lips to kiss them. A look of sadness came to his face. "But in the end it was _I_ who came closest to taming you...I who almost committed the worst sin against you...and I couldn't live with that once I realized what was happening." 

She was shaking her head, her eyes beginning to fill with tears. "Loki, no - "

He wouldn't let her interrupt him. He had to say it or he would never know if she could forgive him for the role he'd played in her punishment. He took a deep breath and continued. "Odin tricked me. He gave you to me, and in my love for you I unintentionally tamed you with kindness and affection when I should have been sharpening your edges so that you could rise up against him." The sadness in his expression turned to shame and he had to look away from her. "I was meant to be your final downfall. He thought I would break you with the brutality he'd unleashed in me, but when that failed he gambled that my love for you would make you weak.  Making you bear my child should have been the finishing blow. Odin knew it. That's why he didn't murder our son - he knew you'd been in this form long enough that your instinct would be to do anything, _anything_ , to protect your offspring - and even if that failed, he knew by then that you would do anything to protect him for _me_. He would have used our son to control us both. But now - "

Eira pressed her fingers to his lips to silence him. "Eirik is safe. He has no reason to harm him now...and surely his love for you will keep him from punishing an innocent child for what I've done."

Loki could barely hide the derision in his voice. "What you've _done?_   Darling, all you did was dare to be a greater ruler than he ever _dreamed_ of being. You were more feared, more loved, more respected, and more fondly remembered than the great Odin Borsson, the almighty AllFather!" He paced to the far side of the cave and stood facing the back wall, not looking at her, not wanting her to see his anger. "And when he couldn't beat you himself, he tricked me into doing it for him."

Eira didn't say anything; there was nothing to be said. Loki's grief and shame were too great for her to heal him with words or her touch. She sat down beside the little fire and wrapped her arms around her knees, giving him time to work his own way through.

 

She fell asleep to the quietly murmured words that Loki whispered as he read from the old book; he recited them over and over to himself, closing his eyes so that he could absorb each word deep into his memory, training himself to become one with them.  It wasn't good enough to just recite the cantation - he had to make it a part of himself, infusing the words with his own power.  He took the little bottle of exhaustion drought and tucked it into his pocket, knowing he was going to need it.

 

He awoke before daylight the following morning with Eira pressed up against him.  She was still asleep, but he stroked her cheek with his fingertips till she stirred and moaned softly.  "Wake up, little one," he whispered, "We have things to do."

She opened her eyes briefly, seeing that he was awake and the sun wasn't up yet, and snuggled back into his side.  "I'm tired," she whined.  "Let me sleep a bit more."

Loki chuckled softly.  "If you sleep, you'll miss out on this."  He took her hand and tugged it down his stomach to the front of his pants, where he was hard and ready for her.  

She groaned.  "Really, Loki?"

He turned onto his side to face her, pulling her up tight against him.  "Yes, really."

 

They made love slowly, neither of them in any rush to find their release, just enjoying one another's touch and listening enraptured to the words of love they each whispered in the dimly firelit cave.  Loki knew it would be the last time they felt this together, so he took his time with her, committing every curve of her flesh, every moan from her throat, every touch of her lips, every sensation of her body against his to memory.  He whispered that he loved her and heard her murmur it back to him, branding the sound into his heart as he pressed himself as far into her as he could get.  And when they finished, they stayed joined together long afterwards, unwilling to separate from their fevered embrace as the sun rose over the cliff's edge, casting its light finally into the cave where they lay.

 

 

_To be continued..._

 


	26. Chapter 26

 

 

 

Once they'd dressed, Loki took Eira by the hand and led her out of the cave; lifting her down the steep facing, he brought them to a wide flat outcropping where he cast an illusion to hide them from all sides. She watched with curiosity, never having seen him do this much magic before. He winked at her as he cast a dampening spell to make any noise from their hidden spot sound like a soft breeze blowing through the trees.

When they were properly obscured from any eyes and ears that might happen across them, he turned to her and said, "It's time, sweetheart."

Surprised, she stared at him. "Time for what?"

He stepped toward her, reaching for her. "Time to set you free."

She backed away from him, shaking her head, her eyes suddenly full of fear. He kept moving toward her, but she put her hands up, telling him to stop. He stood still, just watching her.

"What's wrong, Eira."

She was still shaking her head. Tears were welling up in her eyes now as she looked at him.

"My powers are back, Eira. I know the process. I can take it off you now."

_"No."_

He waited a long moment before asking why. Her voice was so quiet he could barely hear her when she finally responded.

"I might not know you once I'm changed."

Loki was so stunned he couldn't speak; he stood staring at her, not understanding how she could not want this. 

"You'd give up the chance to return to who you are...give up your _freedom_...for _me?"_

She was crying now, her hands over her face to hide her tears. All she could do was nod.

Loki looked away. He couldn't allow this to happen. She would give up everything for him and he wasn't worthy of her - he had to restore her even if meant letting her go forever. Even if it meant making her hate him in the process.

 _"I can't allow that,"_ he whispered. He advanced on her quickly, grasping her by the throat before she could get away from him. She struggled but he hissed at her to be still, holding tightly to the collar; she stumbled and fell to her knees in front of him but he didn't let go.

His powers started to flow through him violently, racing toward his hands to attack the power of the runes before they had a chance to turn on him. He felt the collar start to get hot against his fingers as he recited the cantation that would set her free from it.

Eira's hands were grasping at his wrists, trying to pry them away; he kept his elbows locked so the straight line of his arms kept her pinned to her knees, unable to move. He knew he was hurting her, but he couldn't let himself think about that while he concentrated hard on the words, letting them flow through him, feeling the drain of their power as it pulled against him. She was crying and the desperate sound of her begging was making its way to his ears, but he shut it out and envisioned the words in his head as his lips chanted them.

It felt like forever before the collar started to respond. Time seemed to have slowed around them; he was growing weak, but kept his arms locked and his hands clutched tightly around the circumference of it, grinning through the pain of the fierce energy ripping through him as he finally felt the molten metal starting to lose its shape. It softened under his fingers, trying to reform and reshape itself around his hands, but he kept reciting the words, louder so that now he was no longer whispering. The enchanted dwarvish iron fought back, burning his fingertips as the runes inscribed in its surface started to glow with golden light, but Loki was stronger than its will for cohesion. He drew his last bit of strength and raised his voice, drowning out the roaring of the violent wind that had whipped up around them; the runes were summoning help, but in his heart he knew he almost had them. He no longer heard Eira's voice begging him to stop...she had long since gone silent, on her knees before him, her face turned upward to him, her eyes closed. He knew the collar had to be burning her, but she didn't make a sound to indicate it. He shut out the image of her face and reached deep into himself to make one last run at it.

The collar was fighting to reform itself, so he dug his fingers under it, between the metal and the now bleeding skin of Eira's neck. Screaming the final words of the cantation, feeling the last of his energy leaving him as his powers gave a final great burst of effort, he pulled with all his strength against the collar.

Time ground to a halt for one brief moment as it shattered, the runes bursting into flames as they disintegrated into the air, the molten metal pouring like water down Eira's body. Loki stumbled backwards from the force of it, barely keeping to his feet as he watched angry red burn marks instantly appear where the metal ran over her skin. Her eyes were still closed, until the final drop of it fell from her stomach and puddled on the ground in front of her, where it sizzled briefly before evaporating into nothingness.

He stood there for a long moment, staring at her, too weak to move; he fell to his knees and then collapsed to the ground, rolling over onto his back, trying to keep his eyes on her. She wasn't moving. As blackness started to overtake him, he reached into his pocket and grabbed the little vial of drought Frigga had put in the satchel; _Bless you Mother_   was all he could think as he bit the cap off and swallowed it down.

 

 

_To be continued..._


	27. Chapter 27

 

 

The drought worked quickly, pulling the exhaustion out of his muscles and bones almost the instant the liquid touched his throat. Loki opened his eyes as the darkness veiling his vision whirled away and saw Eira, still on her knees where he'd left her, her dress in tatters and her flesh burned where the collar had melted off her. Her neck was bleeding profusely; the runes had put up a valiant fight to keep her, but in the end Loki had been stronger than them.

But she wasn't changing.

He got to his feet and walked unsteadily toward her. When he was close enough to touch her, she slowly raised her head and opened her eyes. The crystalline blue and green color he was used to was no longer there - her irises were a glowing gold-tinged red, the color of fire.

"Loki..."

He recognized the inflection in her voice. She was asking his permission. He stepped back to give her the space she needed.

"It's alright, my love. You can go."

As soon as he'd said the words, Eira's skin began the conversion from soft pale flesh to steel-hard crimson scales. They rippled in the bright morning sunlight, reflecting its glow, blinding him momentarily as she turned and he saw her delicate little mortal body, the body he'd kissed and touched and loved for so long, morph suddenly into the dragon he remembered from the mountaintop in Svelnheim. Her majestic wings unfurled and he was nearly knocked back by the force of the wind from them.

She was more beautiful than he remembered.

Unsure if the Eira he knew was still in there, he stood silent and still as she completed her transformation. The roars from her long, elegant scale-plated throat ceased after a few moments and she turned her head to the sky, her great fiery eyes closing in what appeared to be ecstasy as she warmed her new skin in the sun.

Would she still know him?

_You cannot touch me...you will never touch me..._

She spread her wings to full span and crouched, ready to take flight. Loki silently urged her on, wanting to see her soar again, his heart breaking because he knew that once she took to the sky she would be gone; he took a step toward her, then another, till he was directly under her wing.

Summoning his courage, desperate to have contact with her one last time, Loki reached up.... _and touched her._

The dragon whipped her head around, her fiery eyes meeting his. For a brief moment he knew from the blank, reptilian stare that his worst fear was reality - she no longer knew him. But almost immediately the stare softened and the dragon lowered its head, as if giving him permission to pet her. Through a foggy mist that suddenly shrouded his mind, he heard her voice inside his head.

_"Loki..."_

_"Eira."_

_"Thank you, my love. But what about you? Will you be alright?"_

_"Of course I will, darling. I'm always alright."_

He smiled warmly at her as he stroked her between her eyes.

_"Eventually I will forget who you are."_

_"I will stay with you until you do."_

She didn't understand, but he didn't need her to. He gave her one last pat and pushed her gently, urging her toward the cliff's edge.

She nudged him with her nose, then turned; with a great flap of her wings, she lifted from the parched ground and was borne aloft on the wind, hovering gracefully above her lover as he watched from below. Then she turned on the invisible breeze and sailed off toward the brightening horizon.

 

Shifting into his raven form, Loki took flight and soared along beside her.

 

 

The End

 

(epilogue follows)

 


	28. EPILOGUE

 

                                                                                              EPILOGUE

 

Frigga cooed to the baby in the cradle, rocking him gently to settle him. Her voice soothed him as she began reciting his favorite bedtime story, the story she'd told him so many times; the story of his father, the God of Mischief, and his mother, the Dragon Queen. The infant stopped fussing and listened as her words flowed into him, taking away his fear and anger, calming him till he was drowsy with sleep.

As she tucked his blanket securely around him, Frigga caught a glimpse of blue sweeping briefly down the length of the child's arm. If he had been anyone else's child, she would have told herself she'd imagined it...but he wasn't. He was Loki's son. She moved the blanket aside and lifted the baby's nightshirt.

A quick flash of metallic, crimson scales rippled down his side, just briefly, and then were gone.

Frigga smiled.

 

 

_A year later -_

 

The Queen entered the throne room, bowing her head respectfully to Odin as she took her place at the foot of the steps that ascended to the throne where he sat. He smiled indulgently as the small child in her arms babbled excitedly.

"Shhh, young one," Frigga chided sweetly as she bounced him on her hip. "The King will see you shortly."

Odin dismissed the advisors that were assembled to his left and turned toward Frigga. "Bring the boy."

As Frigga ascended the steps, the baby grew more and more excited, reaching his arms out toward the King as he chattered nonstop in his babyspeak. By the time she reached the throne, it was all she could do to keep him contained in her arms.

"Eirik, behave," she scolded him. "Your father is just as happy to see you as you are to see him." She grinned at Odin, watching the illusion shimmer and shift until Loki sat before them, smiling at his son.

"Hello, little one."

 

 

 


End file.
